


a mix of sun and clouds

by geguri (lgbtksoo)



Series: the weather report [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Cameraman Jeon Wonwoo, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Humor, Intercrural Sex, Kwon Soonyoung's Thighs, M/M, Meteorologist Kwon Soonyoung, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Riding, Rimming, Slow Burn, a boy and his purehearted love for the weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:14:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26074006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lgbtksoo/pseuds/geguri
Summary: “Is that ahickey?” He’s pointing at Soonyoung’s neck with a pursed look of scrutinization. All three of their heads whip towards Soonyoung, and he’d laugh at their uniformity—still in sync even nearly a decade since their high school dance team—if he wasn’t busy beingmortified. His hand comes up to slap at the spot of his neck, wincing at himself for not realizing.Stupid Jeon Wonwoo. Heknowsnot to leave marks. Not when Soonyoung’s job is to literally appear on live television.In which Soonyoung and Wonwoo are coworkers at their local news station, as well as friends...withbenefits.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Series: the weather report [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918837
Comments: 126
Kudos: 522





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my very first svt fic and i have not been able to get soonwoo's friendship out of my head for a couple of weeks now. i had to do something about it tbh...but hello!!! and if you're here because you read my exo fics, hello again!!! either way, i hope you enjoy this fun little fwb-to-lovers! 
> 
> thank you to **april** , **avery** , **kim** , **angel** for cheerleading my sudden love for soonwoo (and avery for dragging me in here in the first place)! thank you to **rie** for being the love of my life and being my sounding board at the beginning of this fic! and a big thank you to **ninn** , whose passion and love and magic for the skies has sparked soonyoung's own love in this fic itself!

It’s the same melody that tugs Soonyoung awake as it does most mornings, the crooning harmonization of SHINee backed with the incessant vibration of his phone. He’s used to it, has used SHINee as his alarm ringtone since he was in grade school, can shift from sleep to wakefulness in a matter of seconds. Still, it doesn’t make leaving bed any easier. Especially not when there’s a warm arm slung casually over his waist, his body sore all over, and a cat napping on top of his feet. 

In the end, the knowledge that it’s not _his_ bed—and the fact that Minghao will be pissed if he’s late again—drags Soonyoung out from under the covers. His back lets out a series of loud cracks as he stretches, wincing at the soreness in his hips and in his ass. He’s not as young as he used to be. 

The room is slightly stuffy, still a little rank from last night’s activities, but that’s just because Wonwoo gets cold easily and never keeps the windows open at night. He knows Wonwoo will wake up overheated all the same though, so he pads quietly over to the window looking out towards the community rooftop garden and pushes it open until there’s a slight wind coming through. The morning breeze is refreshing on his sleep-muddled self, and Soonyoung stands there for a few seconds, breathing in the fresh air. 

Blue skies greet him above with the sun shining high enough to warm the earth. Flattened puffy clouds form along a lower altitude. _Cumulus humilis clouds_ , Soonyoung’s brain automatically supplies, and he smiles with a simple happiness as he watches them form like swaths of paint upon a blue canvas. It’s beautiful. Today will be nice out, just as he predicted on Friday.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh meows behind him, as if reminding him that he needs to get ready. With one last glance at Wonwoo, his arm still curled over the empty space of the bed that Soonyoung had vacated, he picks his clothes up from where they’re still scattered across Wonwoo’s bedroom floor. 

For a moment, Soonyoung hesitates. Should he wake Wonwoo up to say goodbye? But he’s never done so before, it’s not something that’s been a part of their... _routine_ , or whatever etiquette they’ve set up for themselves. Something unspoken, something that Soonyoung should honour. 

“See you at work,” Soonyoung calls out softly instead. 

He doesn’t expect a response, doesn’t get one, and with a hum under his breath, he makes his way to the washroom. The cat follows him out, brushing against his ankles as he freshens himself up—at least as much as possible when he’s not in his own apartment. Absently, he wonders if he should start keeping a spare toothbrush in his bag. 

“Byebye, Lady,” Soonyoung says to the cat in a hushed tone. He refuses to call her by her full name. It’s not like Wonwoo does either. 

With one last pet to Lady’s tiny little forehead, Soonyoung lets himself out. The door closes behind him. And down the hallway that’s now become familiar, Soonyoung leaves the still sleeping Jeon Wonwoo behind.  


* * *

  
Chan is already nestled into a booth tucked into the far corner of the cafe by the time Soonyoung arrives. He gives him a jaunty little wave as Soonyoung dashes up to hug him, laughing under his breath as he catches Soonyoung around the waist. 

Giving Chan’s shoulders one last squeeze, Soonyoung extracts himself from his arms and slides into the seat across from him. He ignores the twinge in his hips. “I’ve missed you!” he exclaims.

“You just saw me a few days ago,” Chan says, amused. They had met up to watch a movie together on Thursday. Soonyoung just shrugs. He _loves_ his friends, okay, and if seeing Chan so soon after they hung out still fills his heart with fondness, he _will_ express it. 

Jun and Minghao arrive not too long afterwards. After being friends since high school, they’ve all grown used to Soonyoung’s affectionate habits and barely blink an eye when he launches himself at them in turn as well. Jun even offers him a fond peck on the cheek. Soonyoung beams.

Their monthly brunches originally began as a tradition during their university days. It was a way to force them away from their studies, to keep them all in touch with one another despite attending different schools. The tradition persists now, even though they had all obtained their undergraduate degrees years ago. 

The four of them dig into their food once it arrives, and Chan breaks into a rant about the superintendent at the high school he teaches at and their strict rules against the dance club he had started the previous semester. He’s on his third impersonation of the superintendent’s deep voice when Minghao suddenly cuts in.

“Is that a _hickey_?” He’s pointing at Soonyoung’s neck with a pursed look of scrutinization. All three of their heads whip towards Soonyoung, and he’d laugh at their uniformity—still in sync even nearly a decade since their high school dance team—if he wasn’t busy being _mortified_. His hand comes up to slap at the spot of his neck, wincing at himself for not realizing. 

Stupid Jeon Wonwoo. He _knows_ not to leave marks. Not when Soonyoung’s job is to literally appear on live television. 

“No,” Soonyoung lies baldly, shifting his eyes to the scratched vinyl table. Someone scoffs, probably Minghao. Only he could infuse so much derision into a single sound.

“Is it from that guy again?” Jun chimes in, raising an inquisitive brow. He takes a slow sip from his coffee. “The guy you work with?”

When Soonyoung takes half a beat too long to answer, never having been a good liar, Minghao shakes his head. “Aren’t you too old to have a fuckbuddy?” 

Soonyoung winces. “No?” he protests weakly, dragging his finger along the grain of the table. “He’s– he’s _good_ , and we’re friends now anyway. It’s never awkward at work. It’s just easy between us, that’s all.” 

And he means it when he says it’s good. Him and Wonwoo, their bodies work well together. Images flash through his head of the previous night, of Wonwoo pounding into him, each thrust of his cock dragging against his prostate, the delicious frisson of heat and pleasure curling in his belly. The way Wonwoo pressed tiny kisses along his jaw, tracing down the curve of his neck to nip at the sensitive skin before soothing it away with another kiss. That must have been when he gave Soonyoung the hickey. He barely remembers it, drowned in a wave of pleasure. 

He’s 27 years old and there’s no age limit on having casual relationships, no matter what Minghao says. It’s probably not a good idea to be sleeping with someone you work with, but he and Wonwoo have fallen into a pattern of fucking, letting out steam. They don’t talk about it much, but that’s just because there’s nothing to talk about. 

It’s easy, no frills. 

Chan’s brow furrows. “But hyung, you don’t really do casual relationships.” 

“I do!” Soonyoung insists, snapping out of his thoughts. He can feel heat creeping up his ears and he hopes none of them notice. “I did all the time in university!” 

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets them. Silence falls between them as they stare at Soonyoung. They don’t need to say anything for him to know what they’re thinking; Soonyoung had always failed at casual relationships because he didn’t do _anything_ casually. They had been there when he had his heart broken by Dongho, and he’s been in nothing but serious relationships ever since. 

Minghao had once told him that it’s because his heart loves so strongly, so wholly. Whether it be dance or his career or his friendships, Soonyoung has always put his heart on the line. 

The look of judgment on Minghao’s face softens. Jun, always quiet but steadfast, reaches out and pats Soonyoung’s hand. “Take care, okay?”

They return to their conversation after that, and Soonyoung doesn’t let thoughts about Jeon Wonwoo distract him any more than they already have. Catching up with his friends is far more important than whatever silly thing he has with Wonwoo.

Besides, there’s nothing to be careful about anyway. Not when there’s nothing serious between him and Wonwoo. 

At least that’s what he likes to tell himself.  


* * *

  
The first time he meets Jeon Wonwoo is, coincidentally, just shortly before Soonyoung starts working at SBS. In better circumstances, he might be generous enough to call it fate. As it is, Soonyoung mostly calls it an embarrassing coincidence.

He remembers the night with more clarity than he pretends when Wonwoo once asks. Can still remember the giddiness he felt when he received the job offer from SBS, the pure joy of handing in his resignation to the previous station he worked at. Bye bye toxic work environment, hello to a fresh new start. Soonyoung had been confident that his new workplace wouldn’t have an evil boss. That was all he wanted. 

It's a momentous occasion, and one that his dear friends decide to celebrate by dragging him to Chan’s favourite underground jazz bar in Itaewon. The kind of _underground_ with no signage along the exteriors, just the faint brass thrumming through the deep stairwell and the smell of beer sticky on the ground. Soonyoung had been there a few times before, often with their friend group, and the live jazz bands with the intimate cluster of leather sofas are always a nice way to wind down after work. 

Hardly a place to take boys home, maybe, but they _are_ in The Hill after all.

The dark-haired man with round thin-framed glasses catches Soonyoung’s eye. The stranger isn’t doing much—it’s not like there's a thumping dance floor in the jazz club—just sitting back, sipping his pint with a faint look of interest aimed at the band. His hand taps along his glass, leaving fingerprints in the condensation as he vibes to the rhythm. 

He's alone. Maybe it's the cocksure air to him that draws Soonyoung’s attention, but under the dark lights of the club, Soonyoung thinks he's one of the cutest guys he has ever seen. From the way he peers at Soonyoung across the spaces between their two couches, he thinks perhaps it isn’t entirely one-sided.

And maybe it's the high of discovering good news earlier that leads him to sit down next to him, to talk to him. There's hardly any liquid courage involved. Soonyoung doesn’t drink much, doesn’t like the taste of alcohol. 

Tall, dark, and handsome doesn't have much to say, but his deep voice and broad shoulders make up for the lack of conversation and only adds to the charming aura of mysterioso. Besides, it’s not like Soonyoung is looking to _talk_. He isn’t good at casual relationships, sure, but one night stands hardly qualify as _any_ relationship.

(It takes only a week of actually knowing Wonwoo to realize that rather than brooding and mysterious, he's just shy. More shy than even Soonyoung, who tends to wilt around strangers before he blossoms under familiarity.)

The next thing Soonyoung remembers from that night is climbing out of the cab and tugging Wonwoo behind him as they fumble into his apartment. Jihoon, his roommate, is away for the weekend and visiting family. Soonyoung knows this because Jihoon would have absolutely killed him for how loud they are that night.

Who could blame him? Not when tall, dark, and handsome pushes him up against his bedroom door, pressing into him with bruising kisses that leaves his lips tingling. “My name’s Jeon Wonwoo,” he says, before surging back into him with another kiss. 

“Soonyoung,” he barely has a chance to gasp out before Wonwoo proceeds to take him apart, piece by piece, coaxing small whimpers and breathy moans from his lips as he fucks him with deep, grinding thrusts. First, right against the bedroom door, then a second time on Soonyoung’s bed, the headboard rattling noisily as it slams into the wall as Soonyoung rocks desperately down on his cock. 

He receives a noise complaint later from his neighbours in unit 604, but it's worth it to fall asleep with a bone-deep satiation settling in the late hour of the night when they finally tire themselves out. 

It's _wonderful_. Soonyoung’s best fuck in _years_ , at least ever since him and Hyunwoo broke up.

It was—unfortunately, or fortunately depending on who you ask—also meant to be a _one time thing_.  


* * *

  
The mark still hasn’t faded the next day, Monday, when Soonyoung trudges into work. The skies are still swathed in the remnants of night, the yellowed glow of streetlights casting shadows across the roads. The subway doesn’t run yet at 4:30 AM, but thankfully a nearby bus route _does_.

The skies are beautiful at this hour, but then again, Soonyoung finds the skies beautiful at every hour. 

As the broadcast meteorologist, Soonyoung has to arrive earlier than most to pore over satellite and radar data to prepare his weather predictions. He had started his career in research rather than broadcast before making the switch, and this is the easiest part of the job even with the grueling hours. Not that it matters much anyway because Soonyoung _loves_ his job. It takes an hour to prepare the graphics for their morning show, but Soonyoung’s ushered off to hair and makeup before long. 

Boo Seungkwan is already there, plunked down in one of the makeup chairs, sleepily scrolling on his phone as he sips on an iced americano. He smiles groggily at Soonyoung when he enters the room.

“Hey,” Soonyoung greets him, taking a seat next to him.

Seungkwan makes a small, tired noise, blinking a few times. “G’morning,” he says belatedly. “How was your weekend?” 

He had spent one half of it getting fucked and the other half defending his decisions to get fucked to his friends. Soonyoung says none of that and shrugs instead. “About the same as always.” Which is not untrue. He has a routine by now. “You?” 

“Too short,” grumbles Seungkwan. The news anchor is always a little grumpier in the mornings, has to have at least two cups of coffee before he perks up. Seokmin, the other news anchor for the morning program, usually balances him out with an ineffable perkiness. Soonyoung hasn’t seen him all morning yet though. Likely, Seokmin is already reading through the scripts in the studio. 

Their show starts at six o’clock _sharp_. When Soonyoung arrives at the studio, Wonwoo is already there setting up the camera and lighting rig in front of the green screen. He glances briefly at Soonyoung when he walks in, and then looks away disinterestedly. It’s not that they pretend not to know each other at work, but Wonwoo’s always more reticent in the morning. Rolling his eyes, Soonyoung makes his way to Seokmin. 

“Hey babe,” Soonyoung says, leaning against the desk. As he had expected, Seokmin’s reading over the script. Both him and Seungkwan are exemplary at their jobs, but he’s always been a bit more nervous in front of the cameras than either Soonyoung or Seungkwan. 

Seokmin’s face lights up when he sees Soonyoung, his eyes curving into gentle crescents. “Hey babe,” he echoes jokingly. His eyes flit down to Soonyoung’s outfit. “Isn’t it a bit hot for that?”

Resisting the urge to fiddle with the turtleneck, Soonyoung laughs a little nervously. “What, are you saying I don’t look good like this?” It’s summer, he knows he looks ridiculous. 

_Stupid Jeon Wonwoo_ , he thinks. 

Seokmin eyes him. “Sure you do,” he says agreeably, his tone betrayed by the way he raises his brow with a dubious look. An inquisitive expression flashes on his face, but Soonyoung is saved from further questioning when Seungkwan brushes past them with a bellowing ‘good morning’ to the crew. 

They fill the morning air with some idle chit chat until broadcast time. Once one of the production assistants signals for them to stand in their places, Soonyoung wishes the two news anchors good luck before taking his position in front of the green screen. He smooths down the lapel of his blazer, fighting the urge to fidget with the turtleneck. 

Behind the camera, the one positioned to specifically capture Soonyoung during the weather segment, is Wonwoo. As the production assistant begins counting down until the start of the morning show, Soonyoung locks eyes with the cameraman. An inscrutable look rests on his face, annoyingly handsome even at the early hour, as he seems to be studying Soonyoung’s turtleneck. After a few seconds, he eyes slide up to meet Soonyoung’s gaze. His lips quirk into a smirk.

Soonyoung _hates_ the way his heart skips a beat. For a moment, the news of the production crew, the teleprompter, the newsroom all fade away as he looks at Wonwoo, half-hidden behind the camera. He’s been at this job for over half a year now, and still the sight of Wonwoo looking at him through the viewfinder leaves him feeling...

“–I’m Boo Seungkwan of SBS TV News,” says Seungkwan, smiling widely into the camera. 

Seokmin grins, showing off his toothy smile. “And I’m Lee Seokmin. Good morning! We are broadcasting live today from Seoul–”

He dismisses the thought before he even finishes formulating it. It’s just another day on the job. 

Just another day, like any other.  


* * *

  
Wonwoo is already waiting for him in the lobby by the time Soonyoung makes his way over from the canteen. He passes Mingyu on the way, the evening news reporter smiling hastily at him as he rushes down the hallway towards the makeup room with a quick hello. When Soonyoung spots Wonwoo’s familiar tuft of dark hair, head bent close to his phone, a sly grin overtakes his face as he sneaks up behind him.

“Boo!” Soonyoung shouts, grabbing Wonwoo’s shoulders with one sharp movement. 

The other man doesn’t even flinch. “Seungkwan,” he responds in a deadpan, slow and casual even in the way he finally looks up his phone and slips it back into his pocket. “Get it? Boo Seungkwan.”

Soonyoung rolls his eyes at the joke, shoving at Wonwoo’s shoulder. “You’re so lame,” he complains, but he’s biting down on his lip to prevent his lips from curving into a smile. From the self-satisfied look on Wonwoo’s face, he knows he’s failed in hiding his amusement. “Ready to go?”

Wonwoo nods, but then pauses to rummage in his backpack. He pulls a bottle of water from the depths of his bag and shoves it into Soonyoung’s hands. “You haven’t even drank your third cup of water yet today, have you?” he says, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t wait for Soonyoung’s response before he pushes the door open and begins heading towards the subway station. 

Somehow, along the way without Soonyoung fully realizing it, until it had already been happening for weeks, it has become their routine to take the train home together. Wonwoo gets off work a little later than he does—because he starts work a little later than Soonyoung—and they don’t even live on the same line. But their commute converges enough that it’s become a _thing_. 

It’s just a bit after one o’clock and the sun is blaringly hot in the sky. All at once, Soonyoung regrets wearing the turtleneck. But it’s easy to forget about the heat when Wonwoo prattles quietly beside him about his _Valorant_ games from the previous night, and some of the funny things that his friends said while gaming. 

Soonyoung hardly understands a word of it, something about _defusing the spike_ and _forgot to crouch when shooting_ , but Wonwoo’s voice has always been soothing and it’s nice to just listen when he shares these stories with Soonyoung. 

Once, Mingyu had asked Soonyoung how he managed to get Wonwoo to lower his barriers around him, shed away the layers of shyness and reticence that clouded him. Another time, a production assistant commented in a murmured sotto voce about how _handsome_ and _mysterious_ she found camera man Jeon Wonwoo. Soonyoung didn’t tell either of them that it probably helped that they see each other naked, often multiple times in a single week, or that Wonwoo was a total dork and sweaty gamer nerd. 

He especially did not say anything about the faint flutter in his heart. Not even to himself. Soonyoung will simply refuse to think about it. 

One of the benefits of hosting the morning news is that they get to miss the rush hour crowd whenever they commute home. It’s easy to find adjacent seats on the train. Soonyoung settles in next to Wonwoo after a brief scuffle with their elbows, trying to keep his giggles to a minimum. “Stop that,” he scolds him, laughing when Wonwoo jabs his elbow into the soft spot under his ribs. “You’re almost 30, what’s wrong with you.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond but he settles down, his nose scrunched up with how wide he’s grinning. 

Silence falls between them shortly after, as Soonyoung is lulled into a state of drowsiness that usually characterizes the end of his work days. If he falls asleep, Wonwoo will wake him up. He drifts off somewhere between Singil Station and Yeouido Station, and true to his thoughts, Wonwoo shakes him awake as soon as the PA system announces the transfer to Line 6. 

“Thanks,” Soonyoung mumbles. He stretches his arms up above his head and readies himself to leave at his stop. Just as he’s about to stand, slender fingers wrap around his wrist. Confused, he looks back at Wonwoo. 

Dark eyes blink up at him through glasses. “Wanna stay the night?” says Wonwoo. 

This, too, has become part of their routine without Soonyoung realizing it. Like always, he hesitates slightly. “We both have work tomorrow,” he says. 

Wonwoo shrugs. “I’ll call a taxi tomorrow.” 

_This stop is Gongdeok Station. The doors to alight are on the left hand side. Passengers traveling to Daeheung Station on the brown line may transfer at this station._

The friendly jingle chimes above as the train slows to a stop. A beat passes. Two. Soonyoung sits back down. He tries to ignore the clenching in his stomach when Wonwoo smiles in response. 

This isn't abnormal for them; the hesitation, then the decision to stay. Wonwoo doesn’t always initiate it. Sometimes it’s Soonyoung, and sometimes it’s neither of them but still they end up with an unspoken decision to return to Wonwoo’s apartment together anyway. Maybe he should feel worse about being someone’s last minute booty call, but he doesn’t. Soonyoung doesn’t examine what that might mean.

Instead, he pulls out his phone. “Let me text Jihoon,” he says, like he always does. “Tell him I’m not coming home tonight.”

Wonwoo’s hand is still clasped around his wrist, trembling slightly in the way Soonyoung has gotten used to, his long fingers cool and dry against the fluttering pulse of his heartbeat.  


* * *

  
“Wonwoo, oh my _god_ ,” Soonyoung whines, arching his hips into Wonwoo’s fingers. His hands clutch Wonwoo’s bedsheets in a vice grip, so tightly that he’s half-afraid he’s going to tear them. But then Wonwoo rubs his thumb against the underside of his cock, a teasing touch against his frenulum, before trailing his hand further down until the pad of his thumb brushes over the rim of his hole. “ _Wonwoo_ ,” he slurs out, bucking down in a futile movement as Wonwoo pulls his hand away. _Again_.

His skin is overheated to the touch, every single one of his veins lit on fire by Wonwoo’s searing graze. Minutes feel as if they’ve been dragged into hours with Wonwoo teasing him, taunting him as he rubs his finger over Soonyoung’s rim once again. He huffs out a soft sound as Soonyoung whines again, his hole clutching frantically at the tantalizing touch before pulling away. 

“God, look at you,” murmurs Wonwoo. “So needy for it, such a slut for it.”

Frustrated, Soonyoung kicks out blindly at Wonwoo, his thighs still parted to make room for the other man. “Wonwoo, _c’mon_ ,” he bites out, impatient. 

Wonwoo lets out a quiet laugh. The familiar snick of the tube cap almost brings tears of relief to his eyes. He moans when Wonwoo’s finger returns, slick with lube, teasing over Soonyoung’s rim until finally, _finally_ he sinks the digit down to the first knuckle. 

He sighs out Wonwoo’s name as he moves his finger in and out while he lets Soonyoung adjust to the stretch. A simmering heat travels down his spine and coils deep in his belly when Wonwoo adds a second finger, crooking it until he finds Soonyoung’s sensitive bundle of nerves. He jolts up, back arching when at the sudden flare of pleasure, biting down on a gasp that threatens to escape. 

The stretch is incredible, delicious in all the ways he’s craving—but it’s not enough. “More,” he gasps, his own hands sliding down to where Wonwoo is holding him open and spreads himself even wider. He can hear Wonwoo let out a curse, and it only riles him up further, his hole spasming around Wonwoo’s fingers. “You can do better, c’mon.” He tries to goad him, but it comes out breathless instead. 

Tears bead at the corner of his eyes when Wonwoo presses a kiss to the side of his knee as he pushes in with a third finger. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” Wonwoo murmurs, thrusting in nice and slow. His words register in Soonyoung’s hazy consciousness a beat slower than normal, and it drives another whine from his lips. He knows Soonyoung goes weak at the knees for praise, and it drives him wild now too. 

The drag of Wonwoo’s fingers inside of him creates an addicting friction that has Soonyoung keening like a wounded animal, too slow for what he likes but overwhelming all the same. His thighs tremble, body burning as he lifts his leg to try and make Wonwoo fuck him faster, deeper. 

Wonwoo takes his time, sliding his long fingers in and out at a measured pace, ignoring the way Soonyoung rocks back restlessly against him. His cock is heavy and dripping now, can feel the way Wonwoo is too as he grinds against him. Can hear how Wonwoo’s breathing has turned ragged as he thrusts his fingers inside him faster. 

“I’m ready, I’m ready,” Soonyoung moans louder, hips writhing at the stretch. “Come on, Wonwoo, _please_.”

Perhaps that was the word that Wonwoo had been waiting for because he lets out another moan, slightly muffled as he bends to press another kiss to the inside of Soonyoung’s thigh, and finally draws his fingers out with an obscene slick sound that has Soonyoung blushing red. He tries not to be too impatient as he watches Wonwoo comb his hair away from his face, and then reaches over to grab a condom and the bottle of lube. 

Wonwoo’s cock is wetter than before, precum sliding down his shaft enticingly. Sitting up properly, Soonyoung knocks Wonwoo’s hand away and takes hold of the condom instead. He ignores Wonwoo’s quiet noise of confusion as he tears open the foil wrapper. If he could have a favourite cock, it would be Wonwoo’s, he thinks a little nonsensically and frenetically as he rolls the rubber down the shaft. With his hand smeared with lube, Soonyoung wraps his hand around Wonwoo’s cock, pumping it slowly until the other man is hitching his hips into Soonyoung’s touch. 

He thinks he could just watch Wonwoo like this, his pretty mouth falling open under Soonyoung’s touch. But impatience wins out in the end, the need to be filled and stretched open, and he lets go. With his other hand, Soonyoung pushes Wonwoo back slightly. “I want to ride you.”

“Fuck,” Wonwoo hisses, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock. His eyes darken at Soonyoung’s words. “Fuck, okay.” 

His arms slide around Soonyoung’s waist as he settles on top of Wonwoo. Soonyoung can’t wait any longer, doesn’t bother with more foreplay before he lines himself up and sinks down on Wonwoo’s cock in one fluid motion. The sudden stretch burns slightly despite Wonwoo’s careful prep, but it’s exactly what he wanted. His keening noise is echoed by Wonwoo’s loud moan as his hole spasms around the shaft.

Soonyoung breathes out, his head tossed back as he rocks his lower body again and again, his inner walls stretching to accommodate Wonwoo’s length. The sound of Wonwoo’s ragged breaths are loud in his ears, only adding to the searing hot pleasure that grows nearly blinding when Wonwoo rocks into him in tandem with Soonyoung’s movements. 

His thighs shake as he begins to bounce on Wonwoo’s length. Wonwoo’s arms tighten around his waist, pulling him down to fuck him deeper, harder. He feels impossibly deep, stretching Soonyoung wide open. Soonyoung lets out a keening wail as Wonwoo’s cock slots against his prostate, his knees buckling. 

“So good around me, so tight,” Wonwoo moans, his hands roaming along Soonyoung’s skin. He snaps his hips hard, obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh loud in the room as he thrusts into Soonyoung. His lips trail kisses along his jaw, passing over his lips in favour for his neck. A hand slides into Soonyoung’s hair and yanks his head back to expose the pale line of this throat.

Soonyoung whimpers, can feel his hole clenching rhythmically around Wonwoo’s length as he rocks down in desperate motions. When he feels the heat of tongue and teeth on his neck, he lets out a high-pitched whine. “No marks,” he moans out, the words coming out broken, barely strung together through the pleasure.

Despite his words, the sudden absence of Wonwoo’s mouth on his throat feels like a loss. Soonyoung quickly forgets about it though when Wonwoo wraps a hand around his cock instead, his thumb sliding through the precum to rub at the slit where he’s most sensitive, just as he grinds up against his prostate.

“Fuck– _ah_ –” Soonyoung squeezes his eyes shut as Wonwoo begins snapping his hips harder, pistoning his hips so quickly that Soonyoung is helpless but to let himself get fucked. His moans pitch higher and higher, toes curling from the onslaught of pleasure. He’s stuffed so full, so good, unable to do anything but to take it. The tightening coil in his belly is familiar, the heat rising inside of him as Wonwoo works his hand furiously over his length. “Fu– _ck_ , Won– _ah_ – Won _woo_ –”

His voice breaks on a scream when Wonwoo’s other hand slides up to pinch at his nipples, rolling the sensitive buds with his fingers. “Come for me, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo bites out. His hips start to stutter, the rhythm breaking. “Be a good boy and come for me.”

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung sobs, his insides clenching tighter and tighter until he finally spills over Wonwoo’s fist with a cry. Blinding pleasure overwhelms him, his mind blissfully empty of all thoughts except for the visceral feel of Wonwoo stretching him open, fucking him all loose and sloppy. Each drag of his cock against his oversensitive walls pulls a helpless broken whine from Soonyoung’s throat as his hole clenches as hard as his body will allow. “Wonwoo, _please_.”

With a loud cry, nearly breathless with how punched-out he sounds, Wonwoo comes hard and hot inside of him, spilling into the condom. Soonyoung shakes and trembles, unable to hold his own body weight up, and slumps against Wonwoo’s chest with his head falling weakly onto his broad shoulder. 

They stay like that as they come down from their high. A part of Soonyoung wants to remain like that, keep Wonwoo’s cock lodged deep inside him even as they sleep. But as he starts to soften, Wonwoo carefully pulls out. Soonyoung rolls off of him with a sigh of relief, his body aching and boneless in all the right ways. 

Still panting, Wonwoo pads out of the room and returns with a damp towel. Soonyoung lays there limply as he cleans them both. It takes him longer to return after he goes to toss the towel into the washroom, but Soonyoung can faintly hear the sound of kibble being poured into a bowl and the cute meowing noises from Lady. 

By the time Wonwoo returns back to his bedroom, Soonyoung is already half-asleep, his face smushed into the pillow. Soonyoung always has trouble staying awake after being worn out by Wonwoo, even worse when they both have work early tomorrow too. He thinks he hears a soft chuckle, followed by the familiar sensation of strong, comforting arms wrapping around his waist as a warm body settles behind him. He’s not sure. 

Maybe he’s already dreaming.  


* * *

  
The first time Soonyoung _properly_ meets Wonwoo is almost exactly one week after he takes him home from the jazz club. It’s his first day at SBS as their new meteorologist, and he had certainly not been expecting to run into a familiar face as he was being given a tour around the studio. 

Their one night stand had held the same rhythm and dance of all one night stands: the awkward morning after, a stiff conversation, the offer of breakfast made out of false politeness, the inevitable rejection, and then the silent shuffle as Wonwoo picked his clothes off the floor and saw himself out. 

Absolutely no intention to ever see each other again, no matter how handsome Soonyoung found him. 

So when he recognizes one of the production crew members as his one night stand from a week ago, Soonyoung understandably panics. Outside the veneer of the club and the high of really _fucking good_ sex, him and Wonwoo—flounder—for a lack of a better word. 

Luckily, by virtue of Wonwoo operating behind a camera and Soonyoung operating in front of one, they don’t actually need to interact with each other much. Their conversations remain stilted for at least a full month after Soonyoung starts at the job, enough so that he swears Seungkwan notices. 

It all turns on its head just shortly after his one month anniversary at SBS. 

Soonyoung has always loved the weather, the skies, dissecting and understanding the science behind it, and the way their world is formed through the magic and beauty of the atmosphere. Before he worked in broadcasting, he worked in meteorology research on agriculture and farming. His passion has not strayed, and now he gets to enthuse about the weather to the _whole country_ on a nearly daily basis. 

He _loves_ his job. Jihoon doesn’t understand how he can wake up so early, but it’s hardly a hassle when Soonyoung feels like he’s thriving almost each time he enters the studio and sits down with data and reports to interpret on air. It also helps that he’s a morning person.

(And that the cameraman is hot. But that doesn’t become a blessing until later. Not when he first starts and blushes every time he accidentally locks eyes with Wonwoo).

So when Soonyoung fucks up for the first time while broadcasting _live_ , just shortly after he’s been at SBS for one month, he takes it hard. Chan will later hug him close and tell him that he’s always been too hard on himself, veering on the side of perfectionism; something that Chan could identify because he himself is one. But at the time that it happens, Soonyoung sneaks his way into the washroom as soon as they are off air and he just—cries. 

That’s where Wonwoo finds him. Awkwardly knocking on the washroom stall door, his voice is hesitant and halting like he’s not sure what to actually say. “Hey, uh, you– you okay?”

He must have noticed. He had to, when his job is to literally watch Soonyoung through the viewfinder of his camera. It only amplifies the humiliation. 

Soonyoung hastily wipes his face with his hands, sniffling quietly. “I’m okay,” he says, ears burning bright with embarrassment. He’s glad he’s not face-to-face with Wonwoo right now. “Sorry about that.”

Silence greets him on the other side, dragging out long enough that Soonyoung wonders if Wonwoo had already left without him noticing. He doesn’t know if that makes him feel worse or if he’s relieved. Just as he finally unlocks the stall with the intention to splash some water on his heated face, Wonwoo speaks up again. “Let’s get some food in you, Kwon Soonyoung.” 

It startles him enough that he lets the door swing open, his hand still half-raised in the air. Wonwoo jumps a little, not expecting Soonyoung to come out just yet either. For a second, they stare at each other, awkwardness trickling into the silence between them. 

“What?” Soonyoung says dumbly. He sniffles. 

Averting his eyes, Wonwoo scratches at his brow. “You haven’t eaten lunch yet right? Let’s go.” A faint tone of embarrassment, maybe shyness, underscores his words. But it’s enough to still stun Soonyoung into following him out of the studio and back onto the streets.

He remembers the skies from that day too. Soonyoung tries to remember the skies from every day, but that day was particularly striking. Wispy streaks of altocumulous clouds formed a mackerel sky, the humid summer air nearly stifling on his skin. A warm front was heading their way, and the fair weather would later change into a pop-up thunderstorm. Soonyoung’s favourite type of weather.

Under these skies, Soonyoung walks side-by-side with Wonwoo for the first time since meeting him. Wonwoo takes him to a small hole-in-the-wall that only serves two menu items: kimchi pancake and kimchi stew, both of which prove to be far too spicy for what Soonyoung can handle. 

Perhaps it’s the simple aftermath of an awful work day, the feeling of being unmoored and unsettled. The quiet comfort of a colleague who looks at you and your teary-eyes and the reddened tip of your nose from blowing into a tissue too hard, and doesn’t judge, doesn’t ask questions. The presence of mind to simply want to be there to tell someone who you barely know that they did well, that they’ll be okay. 

Soonyoung doesn’t know if he can pinpoint exactly which factors changed things between them. Maybe it’s a culmination of all of them. But after that day, him and Wonwoo officially become _friends_.  
  
  
  
  
(What Soonyoung also didn't know was this: although Wonwoo had been at the job longer, his shyness made it difficult for him to befriend the other staff on the team. He would later tell Soonyoung that most of them probably didn’t know his name at that time. But even in spite of the awkwardness during the initial month of working together, Soonyoung had always made it a point to include Wonwoo in conversations. Was always the first to laugh at his jokes even when they weren’t funny. 

That single month that Soonyoung worked was enough for Wonwoo to actually begin looking forward to work for the first time.

And maybe it was why he followed Soonyoung, the meteorologist’s eyes rimmed red at the edges and glossy, into the washroom on that fateful day. His heart had already been set on him.)  


* * *

  
One day, about three months into the job, Soonyoung drags Wonwoo back to his apartment with him to cook him dinner. “It’s a– you know– a belated thank you,” Soonyoung mumbles, abashed. He can hear Jihoon playing music in his bedroom, loud enough to drown out their voices, but feels self-conscious of his roommate’s presence nonetheless.

“For what?” Wonwoo asks, only half-paying attention. He’s studying the picture frames lined along the shelves of Soonyoung growing up. His mouth twitches in the corner like he wants to smile, probably because Soonyoung looks like an idiot in most of them. If he’s an idiot, he’s a sentimental one though, and he would never take down the photos of him with Chan, Minghao, Jun on their dance team and on all their _friendsversary_ trips throughout the years. 

There’s even one of him and Jihoon, drunk as hell at a college Halloween party. Jihoon is dressed inexplicably in a robo-vampire costume. Soonyoung, on the other hand, is wearing a frilly and skimpy French maid costume because he lost a dare, his waist cinched with the apron and legs encased in sheer stockings, held up by a garter wrapped around his thigh. _How embarrassing,_ he realizes. That one, he tries to subtly place face-down before Wonwoo can see. 

Soonyoung clears his throat. It doesn’t look like Wonwoo notices. Good. “You know, for that– that day.” A blush spreads across his cheeks. “When I, uh, cried.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo says, pausing slightly. He stares ahead, an unreadable expression on his face. Soonyoung doesn’t know what’s going through his brain, but wishes Wonwoo would at least look away from the photo of him wearing lipstick and leather pants for his year-end dance showcase in university. 

When he doesn’t respond any further, Soonyoung furrows his brows. “Wonwoo?” he prompts, confused.

Wonwoo startles, turning to look at Soonyoung. “It’s fine. That was ages ago.” A tinge of embarrassment flashes on his face as he pushes his glasses further up on his nose. “It’s not like you owe me anything.” 

Shrugging, Soonyoung shoves at Wonwoo’s shoulder a little. “Well, I want to anyway.” 

The strange tension that he hadn’t quite noticed building up dissipates after that. At least enough for them to return to normal as Soonyoung whips up a stir-fried noodle dish, the recipe of which was sent by Mingyu into their work group chat earlier that week. 

Normal for them means bickering, teasing, a little bit of metaphorical poking and prodding at all the soft spots that Wonwoo sees in Soonyoung—and vice versa—but never where it hurts. It’s a good place for them. Comfortable and easy. Sometimes, he feels like he’s known Wonwoo longer than three months ( _–and a day_ , a part of his brain that refuses to forget the night they had met unhelpfully supplies at the back of his mind). 

But then the tension returns once Jihoon returns to his room to continue working on his music, and Wonwoo insists on helping Soonyoung with the dishes. They settle into a rhythm at first; Wonwoo washing the dishes while Soonyoung dries them. And then something happens from one beat to the next, something that Soonyoung will later scourge his memories and replay every millisecond of the moment to try and analyze _what_ it was.

It goes like this: Wonwoo turns to look at Soonyoung, his mouth tilted in a half-smile as he makes a pun so lame, so unexpected that Soonyoung is helpless to do anything but to throw his head back in unrestrained laughter. He squeezes his eyes shut, his shoulders shaking, his cheeks nearly bursting with how suddenly _fond_ he feels. Soonyoung can’t help it– their sense of humour matches surprisingly well. 

When he refocuses on Wonwoo again, the smile has disappeared off of his face. An intense look of focus as if he’s studying Soonyoung like he’s a puzzle that Wonwoo can’t quite figure out makes him freeze, his own laughter petering off into silence. 

Is there something on his face? Soonyoung resists the urge to rub at his cheeks, confusion building inside of him as he tries to parse out the sudden flash of intensity from Wonwoo. But he can’t look away. His stomach clenches, his heart fluttering for a reason that he doesn’t even fully understand.

Soonyoung maps out the expression on Wonwoo’s face, the arch of his brows, the slope of his nose, the chiseled curve of his jaw. The sun is setting now, hues of golden amber filtering through the living room window and highlighting the ends of Wonwoo’s dark hair. It’s the first time he’s seen Wonwoo in this light, he realizes absently, his eyes still tracing along Wonwoo’s features. They see each other in the morning and they finish work in the afternoon, but never during the golden hour. He looks good like this, under the burnished glow of the sun kissing the horizon. 

Standing in Soonyoung’s kitchen, their words are lost into the silence between them, the faint sound of Jihoon’s music acting like a background soundtrack to a scene Soonyoung didn’t realize he has stepped into. Not for the first time since they’ve become friends, the faint impressions of memory and sound of Wonwoo—and his lips and his hands—flit through Soonyoung’s mind.

They have never talked about it ever since they met again under the bright lights of the SBS studio. Soonyoung isn’t even entirely sure if Wonwoo remembers the night they spent together. If he does, it has become an unspoken arrangement for them to _not_ speak about it. 

This time, he lets himself remember it.

Wonwoo is the one to move first, crowding Soonyoung up against the sink until the lip of the kitchen counter digs into the small of his back. One hand slides up to cup Soonyoung’s jaw, his thumb stroking along his cheeks in a soft, gentle circle. His eyes haven’t lost their intensity, but it’s backed by something more layered than Soonyoung knows how to read. 

Still, it’s Soonyoung who moves next. He’s the one who cranes his head up, his eyes fluttering shut as he rises onto the tips of his toes and slots his lips against Wonwoo. His stomach clenches when he hears the hitch in Wonwoo’s breath. 

And then Wonwoo is deepening the kiss, his other hand coming up to cradle Soonyoung’s face between his hands in a tender hold. Instinctively, Soonyoung’s arms find their way around Wonwoo’s neck as he presses into the kiss, warmth suffusing through every vein in his body.

Somehow they find their way into Soonyoung’s bedroom, kissing blindly and fumbling along with their hands skirting across each other’s clothing and sliding along smooth skin. The clink of Soonyoung’s belt cuts into the haze of arousal and warmth, jolting him from his thoughts.

“Wait,” Soonyoung pants out, his hands—so much smaller—curling around Wonwoo’s fingers. “Wait, but– _work_ –” The unspoken _are you sure, is this okay, will we be okay_ gets lost in the broken syllables of his words. 

Wonwoo freezes. Another unreadable expression flashes on his face. “Right. Work,” he says. Soonyoung is confused when he hears disappointment. “It’s not like this means anything, right? We’ve already slept together once, it could just be fun.”

 _Oh_ , Soonyoung thinks when he processes Wonwoo’s words. He swallows back bitterness. He pushes his thoughts out of his mind, whatever burgeoning, silly, nonsensical thoughts he had been entertaining. _Right. Fun._

And then Wonwoo is pulling down his pants, sliding his hand under the band of his underwear to cup around his half-hard dick. They don’t say much more else for the rest of the night. 

That's the second time they ever sleep with each other, and the first time since they met at the club.  
  
  
  
  
In the beginning, neither of them stay the night whenever they fall into bed with each other. For the first couple of months of this new arrangement, Soonyoung finds himself picking himself off of Wonwoo’s bed—usually his because he lives alone—and ignoring the twinge in his waist and the cum painting the back of his thighs or leaking out of his fucked-out hole as he dresses himself to return home. 

It takes a bit longer until he starts to let Wonwoo take care of him after sex, wiping him down gently, sometimes even showering together under blissedly hot water.

It takes even _longer_ for him to start staying the night entirely. But once he does, it becomes a routine. Six months into this _casual thing_ between them and Soonyoung’s grown used to falling asleep with Wonwoo tucked into his side and his cat napping on top of him.  


* * *

  
The hickey still hasn’t completely faded by the end of the week. Despite the blistering heat of the summer sun, Soonyoung is stuck wearing high-collared shirts at work. He’s sure Seungkwan and Seokmin have figured it out by now, he has seen them shooting him furtive glances as they whisper to one another at the news desk during their breaks.

Once again, Soonyoung thinks, _stupid Jeon Wonwoo_. 

His only solace is the sheepish look that Wonwoo casts his way whenever he catches sight of Soonyoung fiddling with his shirt collar.

“Sorry,” says Wonwoo as they head towards the subway station on Friday. A tinge of guilt can be heard in his tone. When Soonyoung tilts his head in confusion, Wonwoo nods in the general direction of his neck. “I, uh, got carried away. Last weekend.” 

It takes a few seconds for Soonyoung to register what he’s referring to, and then he has to fight off a blush. To his horror, his heart skips a beat. 

“Uh, it’s fine,” he says. His words come out a little awkwardly. They don’t usually acknowledge their– their _thing_ , not outside the privacy of their bedrooms. Even then, it’s not so much that they talk about _it_ as much as their words become just another part of sex. “It’s fine,” Soonyoung repeats more firmly. 

It’s more for himself than for Wonwoo, but Wonwoo nods after a brief hesitation anyway. 

Today is one of those days where it’s an unspoken agreement that Soonyoung will head home with Wonwoo. It’s Friday, and the weekend is when they _really_ let themselves loose. With increasing frequency, Soonyoung has been staying over on Saturdays as well. He tries not to think of the sharp contrast from the beginning of their _thing_ together, when Soonyoung had only found himself sleeping with Wonwoo about once a week. 

Of course, there are days where they didn’t sleep together at all and still hang out sometimes as purely friends. Platonic friends. Mostly, at least. 

Like clockwork, Soonyoung sends Jihoon a quick text as the train speeds past his transfer station. His roommate must have been fiddling around on his phone already because he reads the message immediately. Just as he locks his phone to tuck it away, Soonyoung catches sight of the text Jihoon sends him: _’so when are you moving in with this boyfriend of yours already?’_. 

“What is it?” Wonwoo asks, studying the pinched expression on Soonyoung’s face. 

“Nothing,” he says immediately, flushing. Soonyoung clears his throat and forcibly pushes Jihoon’s text from his mind. 

As soon as they reach Wonwoo’s apartment, they can hear the soft pitter-patter of tiny paws followed by the jingling of Lady’s collar. The black cat presses up against Soonyoung’s ankles, meowing pitifully. Scooping her up, Soonyoung presses a kiss to her forehead. “Aww, did baby miss me?”

Wonwoo huffs out a small laugh as he drops his keys into the bowl next to the door. “I swear she likes you more than me.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Soonyoung retorts loftily, missing the fond smile that settles on Wonwoo’s face in favour of snuggling up to the cat. He sneaks some scritches in while Wonwoo heads into his bedroom to change into more comfortable clothing. 

Soonyoung’s laying on the ground with Lady by the time Wonwoo returns, now clad in a tracksuit. He lets out a soft ‘oof’ when Wonwoo nudges him with his foot playfully. 

“Hey,” Wonwoo says, nudging him again.

Soonyoung bats him with one hand. “Stop that, I’ll get Lady to attack you if you don’t,” he says, craning his head to peer up at Wonwoo. There’s an uncharacteristically nervous expression on Wonwoo’s face. His heart jolts and Soonyoung sits up, ignoring Lady’s grumpy mewl as she walks away. “What’s up?” he asks, his heart in his throat. 

He can see the way Wonwoo’s throat works as he swallows. Soonyoung tries not to get distracted at the sight. “Nothing, I just, uh, was at a bookstore yesterday.” Wonwoo brings his hand forward from where it had been hidden behind his back. His brows furrow before it smooths out. If Soonyoung didn’t know better, he’d say it’s a feigned look of nonchalance. “I saw this and thought you might like it,” Wonwoo adds.

Clutched in his hand is a small book, its title obscured by Wonwoo’s thumb. Soonyoung’s eyes flit between Wonwoo and the book in surprise, not having expected any gift at all. Wonwoo’s face is carefully blank, but Soonyoung can’t help the slow blossom of warmth that spreads from his stomach to his face. 

Slowly, he takes the book from Wonwoo’s hand and examines the cover. It’s light and small, but the cover is a pretty shade of blue and made of a high-quality texture. _Reports From Unknown Places_ is printed on the front. 

When Soonyoung flips through it, his mouth grows slack in awe as he’s greeted with pages upon pages of gorgeously painted skies and landscapes. Each painting is accompanied by a weather report, the words as beautiful as the art itself. His fingers trace along the ebb and flow of the clouds that flit across the page in dancing wisps. _Cirrocumulus floccus, cirrus uncinus, cirrus spissatus_. Gorgeous. 

“I saw it at the indie bookstore Vernon told me about,” Wonwoo explains, shifting on his feet. “It’s by an artist who’s been documenting daily meteorological events across the world.” When Soonyoung finally tears his eyes away from the brushstrokes to meet Wonwoo’s gaze, the taller man looks a little flustered. “I, uh, I thought of you.” His voice trails off at the end, the syllables fading into something shyer, more muted. 

Warm brown eyes meet his own, a striking earnestness reflected in Wonwoo’s gaze. His heart beats faster. All at once, Soonyoung’s breath flees him as a myriad of emotions rush through him; surprise, confusion, a gradual happiness that culminates into an unfettered joy. A heated glow blossoms across his cheeks, creeping down his neck as Soonyoung watches Wonwoo’s face, capturing the way his eyes soften. 

He doesn’t know if he can name the emotion that takes hold of his heart, the way it makes it ache a little, even as a balloon of warmth expands in his chest. There’s something too big, too expansive for Soonyoung to pinpoint right now—but staring at Wonwoo, he can feel his heart _soar_. 

The difference in their height is even more pronounced with Soonyoung sitting on the floor while Wonwoo is still standing. It’s an awkward angle, his neck hurts a little for looking up, but it’s also _perfect_. 

Because if he can’t name that emotion overtaking his heart, then Soonyoung wants— _wants_ —to show Wonwoo his appreciation in other ways. 

Soonyoung carefully places the book on the ground safely off to the side. Then, he rises to his knees. “Wonwoo,” he says. “I want to blow you.”

“W-What?” Wonwoo says. Even in his state of surprise, his eyes darken. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip. 

“I really want to suck your dick right now,” Soonyoung says bluntly. His tone contrasts with how he coyly peers up at Wonwoo through his lashes. Warmth simmers deep inside of him, quickly rising into something more heated when Wonwoo shivers a little. His hands skirt up Wonwoo’s legs, landing on his thighs. “Can I?” 

“Are you...are you sure? You don’t have to–”

Soonyoung shakes his head, smiling a little. His smile widens when he hears Wonwoo’s sharp intake of breath. “I want to.” And he does. The softness in Wonwoo’s eyes is too much to hold and _god_ he wants to get his mouth on him. “If _you_ want to, I mean. Only if you want to.”

Wonwoo shifts, widening his stance. The muscles bunch and flex underneath his palms. Soonyoung squeezes gently but doesn’t move his hands. “Soonyoung,” Wonwoo says, his voice a little tremulous. “ _Yes_.” 

“I’m going to make you feel good,” Soonyoung breathes out, blinking up at him as the air between them turns suddenly tensed and heated. He slides his palms up Wonwoo’s thighs, reverent and slow, until he reaches the waist of his pants. Without teasing, Soonyoung quickly unzips his pants and pushes the fabric down until it’s bunched around Wonwoo’s thighs. 

Long fingers slide into his hair until they rest at the back of his head as he presses a kiss, nearly chaste in how light it is, against the bulge in Wonwoo’s underwear. He hears him let out a hiss. “ _Fuck_ , Soonyoung...” 

With a coy smile, Soonyoung peeks up to make sure Wonwoo is watching before he pushes the band of his underwear down just enough for his cock to pop over his underwear. Wonwoo looks raptured, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink as he watches Soonyoung with darkened eyes. The thrill of having his attention on him—all for him—is enough to ignite a fire under his skin. It’s just as much for Soonyoung and his need to touch Wonwoo when he finally wraps his hand around Wonwoo’s hard length. Soonyoung strokes it with slow movements from base to tip, wrist twisting on the upstroke just the way Wonwoo likes it, eyelashes fluttering when Wonwoo lets out a soft sound. 

Soonyoung bites his lip as the tip of Wonwoo’s length begins to form precum. Pressing a sweet kiss to the head of his cock, Soonyoung slowly takes it into his mouth. His lips stretch around the girth, tongue pressing hot and wet against the head. When the hand in his hair twitches but not quite gripping the strands, Soonyoung can’t help but tease. He rubs the slit against the roof of his mouth, and when Wonwoo lets out a muffled groan, he pulls off entirely. 

“You can be rougher with me,” says Soonyoung, his voice already turning hoarse. Peering up at Wonwoo from his knees is a wonderful sight to behold. His face is flushed, his eyes slightly glazed over as he stares down at Soonyoung. Already, a light sheen of sweat beads across his forehead and temple and he’s barely even started.

If there’s one thing Soonyoung misses about his dance showcases and years of competing, it’s the performance. The raptured audience, the incredible sensation of all eyes on _him_. And here, on his knees for Wonwoo, he’s all for Soonyoung to perform for. 

A self-satisfied smile makes its way to his face when Wonwoo lets out another moan when he presses another kiss to his cock, before gripping the base. Soonyoung starts to stroke agonizingly slowly from base to tip, watching with half-lidded eyes as a bead of precum rolls down his shaft. Wonwoo’s hand is still in his hair, and he can’t help his own helpless moan when he feels him squeeze a tight handful of hair and tug lightly. 

He parts his lips, breath hitching as he rubs the blunt head of Wonwoo’s cock along the plump swell of his bottom lip, painting himself with precum. Soonyoung tightens his grip around his length just slightly, giving it a few more slow strokes, before he leans forward, taking Wonwoo back into his mouth. He sucks gently at the head, digging his tongue into the slit and tasting the slight bitterness of his precum. Wrapping one hand around the base of Wonwoo’s length, he slides his lips down the shaft. He purses his lips into a tight ring around his cock, his tongue curling around the length masterfully. 

“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo moans, voice coming out low from arousal. His hand flexes in Soonyoung’s hair again as he starts bobbing his head. “Fuck, yeah...just like that.”

The weight of Wonwoo’s length on his tongue is something Soonyoung can never get tired of—it’s one of Soonyoung’s favourite things in the world. The taste of him, hot and heavy, spurs him on as he slides his lips further down his shaft, running his tongue along the sensitive underside of his length. Eyes half-lidded, Soonyoung sinks down on him like he’s starving for it, relaxing his throat as he takes him in all the way. He moans when he gags a little.

Wonwoo curses, shuddering as his dick twitches in Soonyoung’s mouth. Soonyoung can feel him try to pull back to let him breathe. Instead, his hands come up to grip Wonwoo by the hips. Not firmly, but enough so that he can guide Wonwoo closer to him. Enough that he would get the hint. 

When Wonwoo gives a shallow thrust, Soonyoung lets out another moan, this time louder than before. He pulls back until the tip of Wonwoo’s cock rests on his bottom lip. “Fuck my throat,” Soonyoung orders, trailing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down his length and then back up. 

This time, when Soonyoung takes him back into his mouth, he hollows his cheeks and _sucks_ , swallowing around the head. Wonwoo chokes on a moan, his hips snapping up automatically and just as Soonyoung likes it. He moans encouragingly, his nails biting into Wonwoo’s hips as he starts thrusting into Soonyoung’s mouth. 

It’s rough, it’s perfect. Soonyoung slackens his jaw, tries to take as much of Wonwoo as possible as he stops holding back. The hand in his hair tightens as Wonwoo lets out a broken string of curses when Soonyoung’s throat spasms around him. The obscene sound of Soonyoung suckling on his length blends into the increasingly loud moans falling from Wonwoo’s lips. His own cock is hard now, throbbing where it’s still trapped inside his pants, but he ignores it as tears prick at the corner of his eyes. 

They don’t get a chance to do this often, not when Soonyoung uses his voice for his job. The feeling of Wonwoo thrusting into him, hand tugging at his hair as he sobs on his cock, messy with spit and drool as he breathes through his nose _wrecks_ him. Soonyoung moans when Wonwoo’s hips stutter. He can feel the ripple of muscle in Wonwoo’s thighs, the contractions that he knows indicate that he’s close. He’s panting, his hips losing their rhythm. “Soonyoung,” Wonwoo moans. “Fuck, I’m gonna–”

With a shout, Wonwoo spills into Soonyoung’s throat. He pulls a fistful of Soonyoung’s hair, the biting edge of it drawing a loud whine from him as he rocks back onto his haunches, pulling back just enough to catch the last of it on his face and cheeks. 

It’s too much, it’s everything—and Soonyoung _needs_ to relieve the pressure on his cock immediately. He shoves his pants down, fumbling clumsily with the button, and he’s pulling at his length in furious strokes. There’s no patience left in him, a seismic pleasure building in the base of his spine and rolling upwards, he needs to come now. His hand is knocked away, replaced by Wonwoo’s longer fingers as he strokes Soonyoung to completion. His orgasm feels like it comes out of nowhere, a punch to his spine as he spills into Wonwoo’s fist with a whimper, grinding into him with small circular motions of his hips. 

Panting, he falls into Wonwoo, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. Through his sex-addled mind, he’s glad that of all the places they could have spontaneous sex, it was in the front hallway of Wonwoo’s apartment. At least they have the wall behind Wonwoo to brace themselves. 

God. He’s still in his work clothes. 

As if hearing his thoughts, Wonwoo delicately unbuttons Soonyoung’s shirt with shaking hands until he can slide it off his shoulders. Soonyoung’s still trembling in the aftershocks, but he grounds himself in the feeling of Wonwoo’s lips peppering kisses all along his shoulders.

“Come on,” Wonwoo says soothingly, carding his hand through Soonyoung’s sweat-mussed hair. His traitorous heart flutters in his chest. “Let’s get you into comfier clothing. I think you left your fluffy sheep socks here last time.”  


* * *

  
“Wait, shit, my frames are dropping– _fuck_ , Reaper’s ulting–” Wonwoo blows out a rustling sigh, falling back on the couch with a curse. Soonyoung assumes he died in the game—or whatever it is that happens—when his hands land back on Soonyoung’s ankle with a huff. They’re a little sweaty from gaming, but Soonyoung very generously does not point it out. 

A faintly amused voice comes through the speakers. “Why are you on your laptop instead of your PC anyway?” From the sound of his distinct laughter, Soonyoung identifies it as Seungcheol. “You know your graphics card isn’t as good as your PC.”

“Honestly, why would you bother custom building a PC if you’re not going to use it?” says another voice, tinny through the computer. Vernon. 

Truth be told, Soonyoung has wondered the same. Wonwoo doesn’t often play games while he’s over—they’re usually too busy doing _other_ things—but on the occasions that he does, Soonyoung hasn’t actually seen him use the flashy computer sequestered in the tiny office space next to his bedroom. Instead, Wonwoo usually pulls out the small foldable table up to the couch, sits next to Soonyoung, and plays on his laptop. 

Soonyoung, who hasn’t touched his own ancient laptop ever since his cousin hooked him up with an unlimited data plan on his phone, had originally just chalked it up to another finicky technological detail that he probably doesn’t understand. 

“My laptop’s fine,” Wonwoo says a little stiffly. His hands return back to the keyboard as he resumes gaming. “Just felt like it, is all.” 

Another laugh, a different voice now, can be heard over the computer speakers. “Is Soonyoung over again?”

Soonyoung perks up, looking away from the turtle grooming video he had been watching. “Jeonghan!” he calls out. Of all of Wonwoo's friends that he's interacted with, Jeonghan is the one that's most familiar. He shifts in his seat but doesn’t bother moving his legs from where they’re draped across Wonwoo’s lap. Too comfortable. “Hi hyung!” 

“Hello Soonyoungie,” coos Jeonghan in a sing-song voice. “Hope your Sunday hasn’t been too much of a bore if you’ve been spending it with our Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo cuts in. “Jeonghan, can you _res_ me?” And just as quickly, they devolve into a petty squabble rife with terms that Soonyoung doesn’t understand. He returns to his phone, absentmindedly wiggling his feet whenever Wonwoo traces his fingers along the delicate skin around his ankles in between games. 

The original plan was for Soonyoung to return home in the morning. But they had stayed up late last night, going more rounds than either of them had intended, and by the time Soonyoung had woken up, it was already late afternoon. It’s the latest he’s slept in in a long while.

He figured he could let it slide just this once.

The more troubling fact was that ever since the day Wonwoo had gifted him the book nearly a month ago now, he’s been staying over every weekend since then. Sundays are a new addition to their routine. Jihoon had tried interrogating him about it earlier that week. He can’t say he’s proud of how he _literally_ ran away from the conversation. 

It’s not his fault that he’s staying with Wonwoo this weekend as well. His legs nearly gave out that very morning as he tried to climb out of bed, too fucked out and sore from the four rounds of sex from the night before. Also the sole reason why he’s lazing around on Wonwoo’s couch with him instead of doing something more productive. 

And then when he had looked out the window to admire the weather, he had noticed the patchy grey rounded masses of stratocumulus clouds that flooded the skies. Soonyoung _loves_ stormy weather and he had been excited to see some of his favourite cloud formations as a result, but he didn’t feel like leaving the comfort of the interiors under those conditions. Never mind the fact that the storm hadn’t even set in yet.

Besides, it’s nice to just stay in and relax for once. He doesn’t mind the company either. 

“Fuck yeah,” Wonwoo says into the microphone as soon as the game is over, his voice low. “ _Gee-gee_ , easy.” A self-satisfied smirk has made its way to his face. 

Soonyoung blinks, feeling his ears heat up. He has no idea what the last part of Wonwoo’s sentence means, but the self-assured tone is similar enough to his bedroom voice that his mind flashes back to last night. Somewhere between the second and the third round, Wonwoo had started calling him his _pretty little slut_ and _show daddy how good you are for his cock_ in the same voice. 

He would deny anything remotely resembling a daddy kink in the daylight. In fact, he’d normally laugh it off as a complete joke, but he can’t help squirming in his seat _now_ as he recalls how good it felt for Wonwoo to take control like that. Hidden depths, and all that. 

Wonwoo doesn’t notice, focused on his laptop screen. Biting on his bottom lip, Soonyoung runs through his options. He wonders if he’d get in trouble if he started sucking on Wonwoo’s cock as he plays. He shifts, squeezing his thighs together as a thrum of arousal runs down his spine. Maybe a little cockwarming while Wonwoo tries his best to stay quiet, if he had to keep on gaming without letting his friends know that he’s buried to the hilt inside of Soonyoung–

“Thanks for the games!” Seungcheol says, and then it's followed by a chorus of Wonwoo’s friends’ voices, interrupting Soonyoung’s thoughts. 

At some point, he had started staring at Wonwoo without realizing it. He jerks his eyes back to his phone, feeling his cheeks warm with a blush. Oh _god_ , what was he _thinking_. Soonyoung bites down on his embarrassment with a note of despair. Maybe Jihoon’s right, maybe he’s spending too much time at Wonwoo’s apartment when they’re not even _dating_ –

“Hey,” Wonwoo says. “You okay?” 

Soonyoung looks up by instinct, flushing harder when he sees the faint concern on Wonwoo’s face. Belatedly, he realizes that Wonwoo must have stopped gaming. His laptop is closed. 

“Yeah,” Soonyoung croaks out, distracted by the smooth motion of Wonwoo’s hands as they stroke along his bare calves. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but it only makes him feel more conscious of Wonwoo’s touch. “I’m good. Just–” he cuts himself off, squirming slightly when he can feel himself hardening in his shorts. “Wonwoo,” he breathes out his name like a sigh instead.

Wonwoo’s hand freezes on his leg. He tilts his head to the side, shifting slightly so that his body is now turned towards Soonyoung. “Oh. You’re...” His voice lower, breathier, and the sound of it makes Soonyoung swallow back a shudder.

Soonyoung swallows. “Yeah,” he says, a little bashful. But under the heavy weight of Wonwoo’s eyes on him, some of the embarrassment recedes. 

Fingers resume their movement, trailing up his legs and then back down in a ghosting touch, leaving a heated tingle behind. “Can I...” Wonwoo begins before shifting from his spot again. This time, he moves so that he’s kneeling on the couch, Soonyoung’s legs automatically parting to make room for him between them. “Can I eat you out?” He sounds hopeful, a strange juxtaposition from the way he’s now dragging the pad of his thumbs up Soonyoung’s legs. 

Soonyoung’s face flushes hot. This time he can’t repress the shudder when Wonwoo moves in closer, spreading his legs apart as his thumbs move towards his thighs. The sensation of his touch is searing. “Yeah,” he says again. His voice comes out rough. 

Wonwoo exhales as he studies Soonyoung’s face before his eyes drop down to watch the movement of his fingers. He ventures higher, his hands sliding underneath Soonyoung’s shorts as he teases the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. The shorts bunch around his legs, showing the outline of his hardened cock. “God,” Wonwoo says, his voice low. “Please let me take this off.” His fingers tug at the hem of Soonyoung’s shorts.

When Soonyoung nods, Wonwoo immediately helps Soonyoung pull down his shorts along with his underwear. He’s clad only in one of Wonwoo’s sweaters, but Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind as he returns his attention to Soonyoung’s legs. 

“God,” Wonwoo says again, running his touch all the way up his inner thighs before sliding his hand over to his outer thighs. Soonyoung shivers when Wonwoo’s breath turns ragged. He fits Soonyoung’s thighs in his hands and squeezes. “God, I fucking love your thighs.” 

He tries to tamp down on the embarrassment that reflexively bubbles up in his throat when he catches sight of Wonwoo’s riveted attention on his legs. He’s always had thicker thighs because of dance, and now some of the muscle has softened after years of dancing as only a hobby, rather than as a competitor. 

Wonwoo moves again, this time so that his body is lowered to the couch, close enough that Soonyoung can now feel hot breath washing over his skin. Lips brush against the rounded curve of his thighs. “Over my shoulders,” he says, gently tapping at his legs. 

He lifts his legs without hesitation despite the burning blush on his face, wrapping them over Wonwoo’s shoulders until his face is caught between his legs. The new position leaves him wide open. His thighs tremble with arousal as he tries not to feel too embarrassed by how wanton he must look, how deeply he’s anticipating Wonwoo’s touch. 

Lips brush against his inner thigh. An unexpected bite is soothed instantly by a suckling kiss, pulling a whimper from Soonyoung’s lips as Wonwoo nips and kisses his way towards where he wants it _most_. He’s going to wake up with his thighs all marked up tomorrow, he knows, but the knowledge of it only makes his blood pound harder in his ears. 

His hold is still firm on Soonyoung’s legs, hands squeezing like he can’t get enough of the plushness of his thighs. The sight of Wonwoo’s dark hair between his legs makes him feel a little primal, an aching want taking hold of him. His breath catches as Wonwoo finally moves his hand to grip at the swell of his cheeks instead, spreading him open. His hole clenches, spasming on nothing, already greedy for Wonwoo’s tongue on him.

But before Wonwoo can do anything, a sudden clap of thunder slams through the apartment. The sound is so loud and unexpected that both Soonyoung and Wonwoo jump. The sound of tiny paws skittering into Wonwoo’s bedroom echoes throughout the apartment as Lady runs to hide. They freeze. 

A bright flash illuminates the window for the briefest second, before another sonorous drum of thunder rips through the silence of the apartment. Their eyes lock on each other, and when Soonyoung sees the wide-eyed look of surprise on Wonwoo’s face, he can’t help but let out a giggle. 

“Oh my god,” Wonwoo groans. His hands slide back down to rest on the tops of Soonyoung’s thighs as he sits back on his haunches. “That scared the shit out of me.” He’s still hard in his pants, but the roll of thunder has snagged his attention.

Soonyoung’s too, if he’s being honest. Maybe for another reason. He cranes his head towards Wonwoo’s living room window just in time to catch another flash of lightning, followed by thunder. He tries not to let himself get distracted by the weather—he’s passionate about it, but he’s not _impolite_ and he’s hardly going to interrupt sex with Wonwoo in favour of staring out the window. But then Wonwoo laughs and pinches lightly at the meat of Soonyoung’s thighs. 

“You want to go take a look, don’t you?” he asks, sounding amused.

His face heats up. “No!” Soonyoung protests. When Wonwoo looks at him and laughs again, Soonyoung huffs a little and aims a kick at Wonwoo. 

His ankle is caught easily by Wonwoo, who shakes his head, nose scrunched up in amusement. He sends a pointed look at Soonyoung’s lap where his erection has softened. “It’s fine, I know _you_ ,” he says, “C’mon, Soonyoung. Let’s go take a look. I’ll eat you out next time, promise.” 

Ignoring his spluttering protests, Wonwoo starts tugging at Soonyoung’s underwear. 

“Hey, hey,” Soonyoung snaps without any heat, face burning bright. “I can do it myself.” He slaps Wonwoo’s hand away as he pulls his underwear back on, pausing when he reaches his shorts. He shrugs and leaves it tossed next to the couch. 

There’s no disguising the level of embarrassment he feels at his _fuckbuddy_ stopping a potentially amazing rimming session so that _Soonyoung_ can study the lightning patterns. If he were to tell any of his friends, he would never live it down. 

But those thoughts fly out of his mind as Wonwoo drags him towards the window. He’s clad only in Wonwoo’s sweater and his underwear, but Wonwoo seems to enjoy the view as he sneaks his hand underneath the hem of the sweater to squeeze at Soonyoung’s ass. He doesn’t bother batting Wonwoo’s wandering hands away when another bluish bolt lights up the rumbling sky.

Soonyoung’s immediately taken by the beauty of lightning. This is only one of the many reasons why he pursued meteorology: the unending awe and admiration of nature’s phenomena. Sometimes he can hardly believe the magic that’s infused into the atmosphere around them. 

“Doesn’t it look a little beautiful?” he asks Wonwoo. The roll of thunder distracts him from the fact that just moments ago, they were about to have sex. 

Somehow, inexplicably to Soonyoung, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind. “It does,” he says, hushed. Even without looking, Soonyoung can feel the weight on Wonwoo’s eyes on his face. When Soonyoung turns towards him, Wonwoo’s arm slides up to wrap around his waist. “Tell me, what do you see? When you look out the window, what is the magic you're seeing?”

If it weren’t for the genuinely interested tone to Wonwoo’s voice, he might have thought he was making fun of him. Wonwoo's arm tightens around Soonyoung’s waist as he turns back to stare out the window, as if searching for the patterns and allurement that Soonyoung finds in weather patterns.

In the end, it’s the way Wonwoo tugs him closer into the warmth of his body that lets Soonyoung relax and start speaking. The next bolt strike lights up Wonwoo’s apartment in a blinding glare, but Soonyoung takes the opportunity to trace the imprints of it on the window. “Did you see how it didn’t strike straight towards the ground? It zig-zagged up towards the sky instead.” 

When Wonwoo nods, his eyes following the movement of Soonyoung's finger on the window, he launches into a ramble about the beauty of thunderstorms. Hesitatingly at first, and then more eagerly when Wonwoo doesn't stop him. 

Growing up, Soonyoung has always had an interest in the weather. It’s one of the things that people tended to associate with him. In high school, he built himself up to have a reputation; the captain of the dance team, the class clown, the guy with his head always in the clouds—more literal than not. And while Soonyoung has always been affable enough to get along with most people, he _knows_ he can be overwhelming as a person. He’s heard it before from past boyfriends and old friends alike: that he can be a bit _much_ to handle. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind. He listens patiently as Soonyoung babbles about cloud-to-air lightning in a way he normally wouldn’t to anyone outside of his field. Even when he starts on the differences between the three main types of lightning, Wonwoo _listens_ , asks questions, does all the right things to show Soonyoung that he’s interested in what he’s saying. 

But the life cycle of a thunderstorm is short, and before long it begins to dissipate. “Thank you for sharing with me,” Wonwoo says, his voice in a quiet whisper and heart wrenchingly earnest. There's no rumble of thunder to disguise the sincerity of his next words. “I think you make me see a side of this world that I never considered before, Soonyoung. That’s– you’re incredible, you know that?” 

He hadn’t been expecting that. Soonyoung hadn’t been expecting Wonwoo to say anything more than a blasé acknowledgement of his ridiculous lightning lecture. A joke made at his expense maybe, or a plea to return back to the couch or his bed to resume where they left off. Not– not _this_.

Soonyoung’s heart flutters. His eyes snap up to meet Wonwoo’s stare. And when all he sees is fond indulgence and a tender smile on Wonwoo’s face, Soonyoung’s stomach churns. All of a sudden, it feels like his breath is coming up short of his lungs as his heart pounds harder in his chest. He can’t tear his eyes away from Wonwoo.

 _Oh_.

For the first time, he lets himself name the ache he feels whenever he lingers too long on this _thing_ with Wonwoo. For the first time, he lets himself study the angular lines of Wonwoo’s face and doesn’t try to tamp down on the way his heart races. 

And for the first time, Soonyoung lets himself think, _ah, I’m in love with Jeon Wonwoo_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the book that wonwoo gives soonyoung is actually a _real_ project and it's absolutely amazing. you can find all her art and her poetic words on twitter [here (@clever_reports)](https://twitter.com/clever_reports), though the book does also really exist (and i managed to snag a pre-order of it)!!! honestly, this project truly makes me see the magic in the skies and our atmosphere, and i think that's a little bit of what soonyoung sees too :). 
> 
> there is still one chapter left in the fic, so our boys still have some time to figure things out :'). thank you for reading and i really hope you're enjoying this so far! if you'd like to share your thoughts on this chapter, i'd love to hear them ♥
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/igbtksoo)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the second and final chapter! thank you to everyone who has said such kind things about the first chapter. it blew my mind to see people enjoying this jsfjsdf it made me really happy! i hope you enjoy reading this too! 
> 
> if you're curious about some random tidbits that exist in this universe but aren't necessarily apparent in this story, i included some of them in the end note too!

To say that Soonyoung doesn’t freak out would be a lie. It’s not so much that the very existence of _feelings_ is terrifying—surprising to most people, Soonyoung’s always been unafraid of the vulnerability of _feeling_ things in most cases. If anything, his friends would accuse him of always feeling _too_ much. 

Maybe that’s why he never let himself think too hard about what he shares with Wonwoo. As soon as he starts thinking of Wonwoo and _love_ in the same thought, Soonyoung finds that he _can’t_ stop thinking about it. 

It’s that, and the disruption of a routine, that shakes him up. The potential disordering of what he carries with Wonwoo, as unnamed and unimaginable as it already is. He’s grown comfortable, somehow, sharing an intimacy with Wonwoo. To re-enter this state of betwixt-and-between, not dating but clearly not platonic either, with the full awareness that he wants something more—it terrifies him. 

After all, Wonwoo was the one who had initially called this _thing_ ‘just some fun’ anyway.

But in the end, Soonyoung only lasts one week. 

Long enough for Seokmin and Seungkwan to gossip even more loudly under their breath during work breaks, eyeing Soonyoung for his sudden awkwardness around Wonwoo. Long enough for Jihoon to do a double take when he comes home from work to see Soonyoung at home _alone_ every day of that week. Long enough for Wonwoo to adopt a bruised and skittish look around Soonyoung, unasked questions lingering in the air between them. 

They continue to commute home together. His heart twists painfully in his chest at the thought of ruining this routine too—so he doesn’t. It’s just that Soonyoung finds a reason to go home instead of heading over to Wonwoo’s every single time. But it’s as if a sharp ache takes hold in his chest, something qualitative but not easily quantifiable. He _misses_ Wonwoo. 

(“God, even your music sounds lovesick,” Jihoon says on Wednesday evening. They’ve had a tradition of weekly jamming sessions since their university days, back when they first became roommates. They used to create music together for Soonyoung’s dance and Jihoon’s music production classes. 

People used to wonder how the taciturn Lee Jihoon and energetic Kwon Soonyoung could get along so well. What most people didn’t know that aside from their creative affinities together, Soonyoung was more prone to silent moods of contemplation and Jihoon to peppy bouts of hyperactivity than one would expect. 

Soonyoung groans and buries his face in the couch pillow. “Leave me alone, Jihoonie. If anything, I’d say it’s your influence. You write the sappiest music.” 

Jihoon scoffs. “I certainly didn’t have a hand in _that_.” He waves a hand at the computer monitor. But then he softens, he always does. Looking at Soonyoung, Jihoon shakes his head. “Just go talk to him. Seriously.”)

Jihoon’s words turnover and linger in his mind for the rest of the week, but it’s not until Friday that he finally gives in to the insurmountable fight against his own worries. The clouds are a darkened slate of grey that spreads across the sky in one damp blanket. The amorphous nimbostratus clouds are as gloomy as they are beautiful; a pathetic fallacy of Soonyoung’s own mood.

Maybe for Wonwoo too, who greets him with a small downturn of lips at the door of the SBS tower. In his hand are two umbrellas, one that is a plain black and the other one is bright yellow with tiny Pororos printed all over the canopy. He extends one of them at Soonyoung as he approaches. “You left this at my place,” he says. 

A pang twinges in his heart at the sight of the umbrella. Even now, Soonyoung can’t look at Wonwoo without his ears heating up and his heart pounding in his chest like a fool. Wonwoo, who looks cold but is warmer than anyone else. Wonwoo, who washes Soonyoung’s fuzzy sheep socks when he accidentally leaves them on his bedroom floor so that he can wear it the next time he stays over. Wonwoo, who notices the weather and thinks to bring Soonyoung his umbrella in case he doesn’t have an extra.

Soonyoung does. He has an extra umbrella tucked and folded away neatly in his bag. But he looks at Wonwoo and feels the ache in his chest grow exponentially bigger, and he _surrenders_. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, taking the umbrella from Wonwoo’s hand. Even as his heart twists into his throat, he can’t help the spread of warmth at Wonwoo’s thoughtfulness either. He smiles. “Should we– should we go?” 

The look of relief is visible on Wonwoo’s face before it smooths out to the blank stoicism he tends to carry. He nods, and they head out the door and into the rain. 

The rumble of the train and the pattering of raindrops are a nice lull as they chat quietly on their way home. Although Soonyoung hadn’t been avoiding him per se, it still feels like it has been awhile since they got to properly talk—and how sad is that, a part of him thinks, if it’s only been a week. 

But as he launches into a story about how Jun’s latest airfrying adventures in their group chat, or how Chan’s superintendent is still acting like a total prick, Soonyoung realizes how much he _wants_ to share with Wonwoo. In the time he’s been not-avoiding Wonwoo (but kinda avoiding), he’s come across countless moments where he just thinks _’ah, I can’t wait to tell Wonwoo about this.’_

Some of the ache in his chest eases as soon as Wonwoo finally smiles, his nose scrunching up endearingly as he listens to Soonyoung speak. It makes the next decision easy. And when Soonyoung doesn’t get off at his stop, he knows he’s made the right choice when Wonwoo’s smile turns smaller, more private. 

He doesn’t know how to interpret the look on Wonwoo’s face. When he returns Soonyoung’s eyes, so full of warmth and softness in a way that he rarely sees outside of their private interactions with one another, Soonyoung can feel a part of himself start to _hope_. But it’s tentative, tenuous, and intangible for as long as they don’t talk about it. 

Maybe they will need to eventually, but for now, Soonyoung lets himself bask in the warmth of Jeon Wonwoo. 

The train rumbles towards Wonwoo’s stop. Their arms brush against each other on the train, the warmth of skin palpable even through the layers of fabric. The skies continue to rain down, pelting against the glass windows as they cross over the river. Soonyoung doesn’t feel cold at all.  


* * *

  
On Sunday, Soonyoung wakes to the same SHINee song that has been his alarm since grade school and he could program the old hand-me-down stereo to play his CD in the mornings. His body feels heavy with sleep, weighed down further by the arm wrapped around his waist. A smaller weight, presumably Lady, has settled on his feet.

At some point during the night, Wonwoo had curled himself around Soonyoung. His arm tightens around Soonyoung as his alarm continues to ring, groaning a little at the interruption to his sleep. “Turn that stupid thing off,” he grumbles, burying his face into Soonyoung’s hair. 

“How dare you, that’s Taemin you’re talking about,” Soonyoung blearily retorts, his voice hoarse from sleep. But he blindly reaches out towards his phone, patting around the bed until his hand knocks into the charging cable. With some effort, he pries his eyes open and shuts the alarm off. He has to get ready soon, but Soonyoung lets himself flop back down into the warmth of Wonwoo’s chest. 

He thinks Wonwoo dozed off again, but then the other man nuzzles into Soonyoung’s nape. It’s not so different from how Lady acts, a thought that makes Soonyoung smile. Like cat, like cat owner. 

“You’re meeting up with your friends today, right?” Wonwoo mumbles. Half his words get lost in a yawn.

Soonyoung makes an affirming noise. “Mm, yeah. Our monthly brunch date.” He lets himself snuggle back into Wonwoo’s warmth for a few moments. In the quiet of Wonwoo’s bedroom, these lazy mornings are enough to trick himself that they’re something _more_. The boundaries are more blurred here—where it’s just the two of them. And with increasing frequency, Soonyoung wonders if it’s time for him to confront Wonwoo about this. 

But each time he considers it, the thought of breaking the tentative agreement between them frightens him.

With a sigh, Soonyoung stretches his arms out across the bed, wiggling under the sheets to get his blood flowing. It earns an annoyed grunt from Wonwoo. Ignoring him, Soonyoung finally climbs out of bed to the displeasure of both human and cat. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Soonyoung whispers, ignoring the way Wonwoo immediately stretches out to his side of his bed in favour of scratching Lady’s soft chin. The cat purrs in content. “Your favourite human has to go get ready. Sorry to leave you with this loser.” He casts a sidelong glance at Wonwoo, and it’s meant to be derisive but his heart clenches at the sleepy smile that greets him. 

Propped up on one arm, Wonwoo watches him with half-lidded eyes. He blinks at Soonyoung slowly. “Have fun,” he says. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung says. Then he hesitates, swallowing down a sudden bout of anxiety and before he can overthink it, he blurts out, “Do you want to join us?”

Wonwoo blinks at him. “I– are you sure?” When Soonyoung nods, he smiles, soft and shy and enough to make Soonyoung’s heart pound in his chest. “Yeah, that would be nice actually.” 

It doesn’t take long for either of them to get ready, even with pausing to feed the cat, and within the hour they’re on the subway to meet Soonyoung’s friends in Jongno. He sends a quick text to the group chat to inform them about extending the invitation to Wonwoo. Only Chan responds, the sweet boy replying with an _’ok hyung ^^’_. Minghao and Jun have always been bad texters. 

They’re the first ones to arrive at the quaint cafe that Minghao chose, but Chan arrives shortly after, sliding into the seat across from him and Wonwoo. He has a schooled expression on his face, the one where Soonyoung knows only means he’ll interrogate Soonyoung later. 

“Hi, you must be Wonwoo?” Chan says, extending a hand out for Wonwoo to shake.

Wonwoo smiles. After knowing him this long, Soonyoung can see the nervous tic in his expression when he reaches out to shake Chan’s hand. “I am. You’re Chan? Soonyoung has told me a lot about you.” 

“Has he?” Chan says, arching an eyebrow. He shoots Soonyoung a look. Maybe he never fully confessed to Chan how much he shares about his life with Wonwoo, far beyond the boundaries of mere fuck buddies. When Soonyoung only shrugs in response, Chan turns back to Wonwoo. “He’s mentioned you quite a lot too. It’s nice to finally be able to meet you.”

Soonyoung watches nervously as the two of them begin to talk. A part of him regrets bringing Wonwoo, more nervous about Wonwoo’s impression of his friends—and vice versa—than he thought he would be. Thankfully, him and Chan seem to get along well. He knows Wonwoo is shy around strangers, and it’s a relief that he doesn’t seem too uncomfortable meeting Soonyoung’s friends yet.

The door opens with a chime and Soonyoung turns around. Minghao walks in with Jun, the two roommates arriving together like always. Trailing behind them is a third person, someone that Soonyoung almost doesn’t recognize at first. And then when he does, his breath flees him. 

Soonyoung’s hand pauses in the air mid-wave as he blinks in shock. “Joshua-hyung?”

Joshua—it _is_ him—starts a little at the sight of him. His lips curl into a smile, his eyes growing wide with excitement. “Soonyoung! Oh god, wow. It’s been– it’s been a hot minute, huh?” 

As Soonyoung’s still dumbly staring at him, Jun climbs into the seat next to Chan. “Sorry we’re late,” he says, picking up the menu with one hand. He passes one down to Minghao sitting on the other side of him. “We ran into Shua at the train station! Can you believe it?” 

A calculative look passes over Minghao’s face when he surveys the table, his eyes landing on Wonwoo. The expression fades away as he smiles broadly. “Hi, I’m Minghao. Sorry about being late, you’re Wonwoo, right?” 

Snapping out of his thoughts, Soonyoung hurriedly introduces them all to Wonwoo. He’s partly distracted by Joshua as he slides into the last remaining seat next to Soonyoung, but the last thing he wants is for Wonwoo to feel awkward. He smiles reassuringly at him. It seems to help as some of the tension seeps from Wonwoo’s shoulders. 

“I haven’t seen you since high school,” Joshua says, pulling Soonyoung’s attention back towards him. “Any of you!” He sounds as awed as Soonyoung feels. 

“Almost a decade,” Soonyoung says, a little shocked still. His eyes trace over Joshua’s face. Even though it’s been eight years since he’s last seen the older man, he still looks the same; the same big eyes, the same slim face, the same smile that curls up in the corners. There are subtle differences too in the way he’s filled out now, much broader than Soonyoung remembers. Maybe even taller too. 

He’s still heartbreakingly handsome too, but Soonyoung has always been biased when it comes to Joshua. The thought passes casually. It’s almost surprising how it no longer fazes him, without leaving his stomach churning or heart ticking up in speed. Nothing at all like the way it does around Wonwoo now. 

Minghao smiles serenely. Immediately, Soonyoung can feel his hackles rise. He loves Minghao to death, and it’s only because of how much he _knows_ him that he immediately recognizes that smile. He’s only seen it when Minghao’s _up to no good_. 

He’s proven right when Minghao casually announces, “Shua-hyung told us he’s moved back from LA for good now.” His eyes flit to Wonwoo before sliding back to Soonyoung. “Isn’t that nice? You had the _biggest_ crush on Shua back then.”

Dumbfounded, Soonyoung splutters. Minghao doesn’t even bother looking at him in favour of taking an elegant sip of tea. Soonyoung had never worked up the courage to confess to Joshua, the other man moving back to America before he had the chance. Even if the feelings have long subsided, Soonyoung can’t help being flustered. 

Next to him, he can feel Wonwoo stiffen. He resists the urge to look at him instead.

Ever the sweetheart, Chan immediately notices the sudden awkwardness. “Everyone and their _moms_ had a crush on Joshua-hyung,” he interjects smoothly, rolling his eyes. “He has that whole, you know, church _oppa_ vibe.” Soonyoung sends Chan a grateful look.

It brings a chuckle to Joshua’s lips. Shaking his head, he waves his hands in the air. “I wasn’t anything special,” he protests. There’s a glint in his eyes though, and Soonyoung suddenly remembers how mischievous Joshua always was underneath his placid exterior. Leaning forward, he props his chin on the palm of his head as his lips curl into a smile. “That’s cute though. Did you really have a crush on me?”

Caught off guard, Soonyoung feels his ears burn. “I– I mean, you know–” he stammers, blushing harder when Joshua’s smile widens. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Jun facepalm. “You– you laughed at my jokes and you were handsome and– well, it was a long time ago, okay?” He pouts, then his eyes slide towards Wonwoo. “It’s old news. Besides, now I’m–” His mouth clamps shut before he finishes his thought, eyes flitting back to Joshua. 

Joshua laughs again, his eyes curved into crescents. He ruffles Soonyoung’s hair, an affectionate touch reminiscent of the past. He used to do that all the time. “You were always adorable, Soonyoung-ah. It’s why you were my favourite underclassman.”

Automatically, Soonyoung’s hand reaches up to fix the mussed strands, but he’s beat by Wonwoo who carefully puts each strand back into place. His elegant fingers comb through Soonyoung’s hair. It’s effortlessly sweet of him, and it only makes Soonyoung blush harder. He mutters a thank you as he sneaks a glance at Wonwoo.

His flustered smile falters a bit when he notices how stiffly Wonwoo is sitting. A stony expression has settled on his face, his eyes closed-off and shuttered as he meets Soonyoung’s gaze. Immediately, a pang of concern hits his heart. It must be an awkward and boring conversation to sit through, having not been around for Soonyoung’s high school days. 

Soonyoung frowns, blinking up at him. Under the table, he reaches over with one hand and squeezes Wonwoo’s hand in a silent touch of reassurance. Wonwoo had once told him that meeting new people can be daunting for him. He wants to make this enjoyable for him too. 

The touch doesn’t seem to do much. With a sigh, Soonyoung moves to retreat. Just as he lets go, Wonwoo turns his hand over and slides his fingers through Soonyoung’s, interlocking their fingers together. His breath hitches at the simple action, and he stares down at their hands in surprise. They’ve never held hands before, Soonyoung thinks faintly, his heart thudding in his chest. 

Wonwoo’s not looking at him. Soonyoung tilts his head in confusion. He’s not looking at him—he’s staring straight at Joshua with a strangely intense look on his face. Soonyoung can’t tell why; the other man already lost in a conversation with the rest of Soonyoung’s friends and is no longer paying attention to either Soonyoung or Wonwoo. 

The moment passes quickly, as Wonwoo locks eyes with Soonyoung again. There’s an unreadable expression on his face like there’s something resting on the tip of his tongue. A few seconds goes by and Soonyoung waits for Wonwoo to speak. 

“Soonyoung, you–” Wonwoo starts, and for some reason, the tone of his voice makes Soonyoung’s stomach swoop. But then Wonwoo continues, “Nevermind. You should eat.” There’s a split second where Soonyoung thinks he sees guilt on Wonwoo’s face before it smooths out, but not before he squeezes reassuringly at Soonyoung’s hand as if to assure him there’s nothing wrong. And with that, he turns back towards his own plate of food, leaving Soonyoung staring at him in growing confusion. 

After a pause, Soonyoung slowly turns back to his own food too, picking up his fork with his other hand. He joins back in on the conversation, letting the sound of his friends’ voices wash away his confusion. Slowly, as they begin catching up on all they've missed in each other’s lives, Wonwoo joins in too, more easily and readily than before. And by the end of their meal, they’re all chatting comfortably. 

And if they continue holding hands for the rest of their breakfast, well. Who is Soonyoung to pull away?  


* * *

  
_’u guys look cute together,’_ Jun sends to their group chat after they all leave the cafe and go their separate ways. 

Soonyoung purses his lips, quickly tapping out a reply. _’i told you, i’m not into shua hyung anymore! i haven’t even seen him since i was 17 ><’_

 _’lol i was talking about wonwoo,’_ comes Jun’s immediate response.

Chan adds, _’i like wonwoo! he’s nice!_ ’. 

It’s followed by Minghao, sending a sticker of Kermit the Frog giving a thumbs up. _’i was wrong before hyung. you and wonwoo really do look good together,’_ says Minghao. 

He nearly drops his phone in surprise. Soonyoung hadn’t expected his friends to say anything, but when a tingling warmth spreads in his chest and down to his toes, he realizes that maybe that’s what he subconsciously wanted when he invited Wonwoo to brunch: a sense of approval from his friends.

“Who are you texting?” Wonwoo asks, eyeing him curiously. He looks at Soonyoung’s phone with a slight frown. They’re not holding hands anymore. Soonyoung is enamoured with him enough to admit that he misses it. 

He quickly pockets his phone, hoping Wonwoo didn’t see the texts on his screen. “Jun and Minghao being the _worst_ ,” he bemoans dramatically. “This is why Chan is the only one I can trust.” 

An expression that Soonyoung thinks is relief passes over Wonwoo’s face, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. “Oh, just them?” he says, to Soonyoung’s confusion. Then, he says, “I liked them. They’re really funny.” 

“Were you expecting someone else?” Soonyoung asks, tilting his head. A jostle of bodies exiting the train pushes him closer to Wonwoo and he has to grab hold of Wonwoo’s sleeve as one particularly aggressive _ahjumma_ shoves him in her haste to get out.

Wonwoo’s hand comes up to wrap around Soonyoung’s waist as he steadies him. The resulting thudding of his heart feels a little ridiculous to even Soonyoung. It’s not like he’s in some daytime drama—but his cheeks flush a little nonetheless. 

“Careful,” Wonwoo murmurs.“And– uh. No one, really.” He pauses for a second. “Well. Since Joshua asked for your number before we left. I thought–” Wonwoo suddenly looks embarrassed. “Nevermind.”

Soonyoung blinks owlishly up at him, confusion etched into his face. “Joshua?” he repeats blankly. “Well, I mean, he did? He texted right away saying we should hang out again.”

Wonwoo deflates a little. His hand drops from Soonyoung’s waist. “Oh.” 

Biting down on his bottom lip, Soonyoung studies Wonwoo carefully. Maybe he hadn’t gotten along with his friends as well as he thought he did. Aside from the awkwardness from the beginning, Wonwoo seemed to have won them over with his lame dad jokes—something Jun, in particular, had appreciated. And judging from his friends’ texts in the group chat, they like Wonwoo well enough too. 

And Joshua, well, no one could dislike Joshua. Soonyoung’s pretty sure of that.

“I was thinking maybe we could throw him a welcome party,” Soonyoung says instead. He tilts his head and peers up at Wonwoo, frowning a little when Wonwoo averts his eyes. “With my friends of course. But I was thinking yours too—Vernon, Jeonghan, Seungcheol.”

Wonwoo finally looks at him again. “What?”

Soonyoung fidgets, nervousness bubbling up inside of him. “Well, you know,” he says, feeling shy. “I haven’t had a chance to meet your friends yet either. And I was thinking, Joshua likes playing games too and he reminds me a bit of Jeonghan, you know. A bit sneaky.” Soonyoung’s cheeks turn pinker. “I just thought it could be nice.”

Sure, Soonyoung has chatted with Wonwoo’s friends a few times. Usually only when he just so happens to be there during one of their gaming sessions, but enough that he can identify them by their voices. 

(The first time he met them was when Wonwoo suddenly leapt off the couch and proclaimed he had to use the washroom. “Can you just move around or shoot randomly so I don’t get disconnected from the game?” he had asked Soonyoung pleadingly. 

Soonyoung had no idea what he was doing, had never even heard of _Overwatch_ before that day, but he did get to talk to Wonwoo’s friends. “They’re much cooler than you are,” he told Wonwoo triumphantly as soon as he returned.)

Maybe it’s greedy of him, wanting to meet them properly. He doesn’t want to insert himself into Wonwoo’s life but, well, maybe that’s love too; the desire to share the love and the friendships you hold, and the want to witness their own as well. The simple yearning to share these spaces of commonality without an ounce of possessiveness. 

He knows it’s just as likely that Wonwoo doesn’t return the sentiment though. What are the chances, when they’re not even dating? And when he continues to look hesitant, Soonyoung tries not to let himself get disappointed. 

“You want to invite me? And my friends?” Wonwoo echoes, looking a little lost. “To meet your friends?”

Soonyoung’s heart sinks. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. As much as they’re legitimately _friends_ , he probably broke some unspoken code of conduct for fuckbuddies. “Yeah,” he says weakly. 

“Wouldn’t Joshua mind?” says Wonwoo. “Or– or _you_?”

Soonyoung’s brows furrow at that, and he stares at Wonwoo, puzzled. “Why would he mind? He’s the one who said he wants to see us again. _You_ and me.” His exact words were ‘ _bring your boyfriend next time again_ ’ but Soonyoung would rather be eaten by Seungkwan’s tiny dog than admit that. “And you know I don’t mind. You’re–” _important to me, someone I want to keep, someone I hope to stay with_ “–stuck with me, you know. Like a limpet.” He tries to laugh shrewdly, hoping to downplay his flushed cheeks. 

“You want me to be there? _Both_ of our friends together?” Wonwoo looks bewildered. 

He shoves down the urge to fidget. “Geez, what’s with you,” Soonyoung says in a haughty tone instead, trying to disguise his rising embarrassment. He can’t tell if Wonwoo is so disgusted by the idea that he literally can’t process Soonyoung’s words, or what. 

His mind flashes back to Jun and Minghao’s texts, or the knowing look on Chan’s face when they left, or Joshua’s small smile when he noticed how they were holding hands under the table. Drawing in a deep breath, Soonyoung decides to– to just go for it. “Of course, I want you there, silly. You’re– you’re someone I like being around.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Soonyoung turns away to hide the way his cheeks turn pinker. He wishes he could take a step back, just to put more distance between him and Wonwoo. Soonyoung curses the crowded weekend rush on the train. 

Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. A beat passes. Just as Soonyoung’s on the verge of digging a hole to bury himself in—it doesn’t matter if he’s literally hurling through space in a giant hunk of metal, he _will_ find a way—Wonwoo makes a small noise. It draws Soonyoung’s attention back to him, and his heart pounds in his chest when he sees the faint smile that curls at Wonwoo’s lips.

“ _Oh_ ,” Wonwoo says, so quiet that it’s almost a sigh. He’s still smiling in that horrible, handsome, charming way that always knocks Soonyoung off his feet. “I...me too. You know that right?” 

Soonyoung feels his ears burn. In the deep recesses of his mind, the intangibility of _hope_ and optimism soars at the sight of Wonwoo’s smile. Moments like these only serve as a reminder to Soonyoung, that maybe it was a tall order from the beginning, to expect himself not to fall in love. How could he not? When Wonwoo looks at him like this, like he’s someone who could be special. 

He’s been burned before. Dongho, in the last casual relationship he ever had, had left him high and dry, crashing down before they had even taken off. Even now, Soonyoung thinks that he should know better. He should know better than to get swept up in the softness of Wonwoo’s smile. 

The train chimes in the announcement system. _This stop is Gongdeok Station. The doors to alight are on the left hand side. Passengers traveling to Daeheung Station on the brown line may transfer at this station._

It’s Soonyoung’s stop.

A hand clasps around his wrist before Soonyoung can move. A hint of nervousness flickers at the edges and lines of Wonwoo’s face. “I have a few errands to run, but would you want to keep me company?” he asks, just as the doors slide open. His words come out in a rush. “I’ll cook you dinner tonight. My treat.” 

Soonyoung makes his decision before he even fully processes it. He turns towards Wonwoo, and away from the opened train doors. His heart thuds loudly, so loud that he’s afraid the whole train can hear it. “You, cooking?” he says, smiling widely despite the pounding in his chest. “That's dangerous. Not sure if you can give me anything edible.”

The laugh that escapes from Wonwoo’s mouth is loud, his nose scrunching up perfectly. “Okay, maybe we can go to a restaurant. That way you won’t go hungry.” His eyes glint with something mischievous, and he pulls Soonyoung in closer, his hand still wrapped around his wrist. “I know _I_ won’t be. I still haven’t been able to eat you out since last time, after all. I promised, didn’t I?” 

Soonyoung gasps, casting a furtive look around the train. He blushes hotly, pulling up his other hand to whack at Wonwoo’s chest. He tries not to get distracted by how firm the muscles feel under his palm. “You are _such_ a pervert,” he says accusingly, shooting him a glare. But then he shifts, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile despite himself. “I’m holding you to that promise then, Jeon Wonwoo.”  


* * *

  
They spend the day finishing up respective errands—gift-shopping for Wonwoo’s younger brother, grocery shopping for Soonyoung—and then Wonwoo takes Soonyoung out for dinner at a quaint izakaya with loud music and dim lights and seats that are tucked just a little too close to one another.

They don’t drink. Nonetheless, Soonyoung swears he feels a kindred rush of exhilaration as they return back to Wonwoo’s apartment afterwards, cheeks flushed and smiles giddy. Neither of them question it when Soonyoung doesn’t leave to go back home to his own apartment. 

They had all these rules before; no staying over after sex, no staying over on days other than the weekend, no staying more than two nights in a row. Time and time again, each rule has been broken one after another. Soonyoung’s breaking another one now: no staying over on a Sunday night, especially not when Soonyoung has spent every night since Friday with Wonwoo already. 

It becomes another unanswered question between them, and as Soonyoung’s chest tightens with a prickle of anxiety, he promises himself that he won’t drag this out longer for his _own_ sanity. He’s been called a masochist by Jihoon for going this long without confronting Wonwoo on what _they_ are. Maybe it’s time for that to change. 

Right then and there, with Lady pawing at his socks in delight as Wonwoo tugs him through the dimmed halls of his one bedroom apartment, Soonyoung promises himself that he’ll finally talk to Wonwoo. Properly.

But later, maybe much later, because right now—Wonwoo makes good on his promise. 

“Oh my god,” Soonyoung chokes out as Wonwoo’s tongue drags over his hole, a pitched moan falling from his lips as his thighs shake from the effort of keeping himself propped up. “Oh– oh, _fuck_!”

Large hands spread his cheeks wider, Wonwoo’s tongue licking over his entrance, moaning as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. It’s obscene, filthy, and Soonyoung lets out a loud whine from both arousal and rising embarrassment. He can feel Wonwoo’s tighten his grip on him, kneading at his cheeks while his tongue presses over and over his rim.

His cock hangs heavy between his legs, steadily leaking precum onto Wonwoo’s bedsheets. His hole clutches greedily at Wonwoo’s tongue as if trying to suck him in. Soonyoung wants to reach behind him, wants to tangle his hand in Wonwoo’s hair and to drag his mouth closer, but his hands won’t let go of its grip on the sheets. 

Soonyoung wails when Wonwoo circles his tongue in teasing strokes, before finally forcing his tongue in, licking into his swollen entrance, hot and clutching at his tongue. “Fuck, Won– _ah–_ ” 

His voice breaks on the last syllable, his breaths turning hiccupy and gasping as he desperately sucks in air into his lungs. Wonwoo feels so hot inside of him, slick and scorching. He sucks, kisses, and licks into his hole, his hands dragging Soonyoung’s hips closer to his mouth as Soonyoung lets out gasping sobs at the slight stretch. His legs are shaking, a tingling pleasure building in his spine as Wonwoo coaxes moans from his lips. He bucks his hips, his back arching into a bow as he tries to press himself back into the slick warmth. 

Then, Wonwoo sucks at his hole, the pressure and friction rocketing through his hips, and the rush of pleasure is almost electrifying, nearly overwhelming in how tingles rack through his body in waves, all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. Soonyoung’s mouth falls open in a silent scream, his moans falling out pitched and broken. He tries to keep his eyes open, but they’re glassy and unseeing. 

Moans tumble from his lips as his whole body shakes, Wonwoo diving his tongue in and out of the heat of Soonyoung’s body. His knees slide against the sheets, and he lets out another gasp when Wonwoo forces his hips back up again, thrusting deep into the greedy clutch of his hole. His entrance feels thoroughly soaked, messy and sopping, spread open on Wonwoo’s tongue. 

He can hear his moans start to get louder and louder. His toes curl, body writhing as he can feel the pleasure spreading throughout his body. His entire body is heated, flushed red, burning with how good he feels, how wrecked he feels from Wonwoo’s tongue and hands on him alone. Soonyoung pants greedily for air, his hips twitching with every thrust of his tongue. 

“Fu– _ah_ , Wonwoo, Won _woo_ –” Soonyoung squeezes his eyes shut, crying out as his hips rock back. He can feel Wonwoo kneading the globes of his ass, one hand sliding down to squeeze at Soonyoung’s thighs. And then the touch disappears, but Soonyoung barely has time to process it before Wonwoo’s hand comes down hard on his ass with a loud spank. Startled, Soonyoung clenches around his tongue. A hot sting spreads over his cheek, the warmth of sweet pain lingering as Wonwoo squeezes his ass. It’s too much, it’s like the air has been punched out of him, as he lifts his head, tossing it back. Soonyoung moans uncontrollably at the sudden jolt of heat in his belly, a blinding pleasure cutting through him, and then he’s coming untouched. Writhing helplessly as stripes of come paint the bedsheets, confused little cries of pleasure spill from his lips when Wonwoo continues to fuck him with his tongue. 

Soonyoung shudders, oversensitive and bucking away from Wonwoo’s mouth before rocking his hips back, still chasing after the slick pleasure of his tongue. A shivery moan claws its way from his throat as he clenches hard around him. He’s greedy for it still, his body still demanding for more, for the drag of sensation against his walls. 

Wonwoo pulls back to press a kiss against his slick, loose hole. “Fuck, Soonyoung,” Wonwoo rasps out. His thumbs trace along the bottom curve of his ass, kneading at the swell of his cheeks. And then he’s pressing tiny kisses between his cheeks, hot exhales washing over his sensitive skin and drawing a tremble from Soonyoung. The drag of his lips move downwards until Wonwoo’s mouth lands on his upper thigh. Teasing little nibbles along his inner thigh strikes another deep, bone-melting pleasure.

“ _Ah_!” Soonyoung cries out when Wonwoo bites at one spot, before pausing to suckle at the tender skin of his thigh. His cock twitches weakly, still soft and sensitive. “Wonwoo, _Wonwoo_ –”

Wonwoo releases him, the sudden loss of warmth jarring to Soonyoung. He lets out a noise of confusion that’s stifled when Wonwoo’s hands return to slide up his legs. “Soonyoung, can– can I fuck your thighs?” His voice is rough, breathy like he’s just run a marathon. The sound of it, and the question, sends another jolt of heat down his spine.

He swallows, throat working. “Fuck, _yes_ ,” Soonyoung says, not so much in a word but as a gusting breath. He’s still soft, feels fucked out from Wonwoo’s tongue alone, but warmth still coils deep in his belly. He can’t see behind him, but he feels it when Wonwoo retreats momentarily to flick open the cap on the lube. 

And then the slick head of Wonwoo’s cock nudges between his thighs, sliding against the curve of his sensitive inner thighs and nudging against his sack, nice and easy. Soonyoung lets out a bruised, broken noise as he squeezes his legs closer together, enveloping Wonwoo’s cock in the warm, soft heat of his skin. 

“Soonyoung, god, you’re _incredible_.” Wonwoo squeezes his thighs, touching, groping, petting the softness of the skin there. His caresses are worshipful, slow and reverent, almost too much for Soonyoung to bear. It leaves him shuddering, legs trembling, his whole being unraveling under his careful touch. Another part of him wants to demand for more, something more rough than the careful way he’s driving Soonyoung crazy. Wants to feel the warmth of Wonwoo’s palm, the sting of pleasure from being spanked, and his cock twitches when he remembers how good it felt when he came just moments ago.

The thoughts fly out the window when Wonwoo teases the head of his cock against his skin, precum dripping all over Soonyoung’s thighs. His breath hitches when Wonwoo begins to thrust between his thighs, his body leaning over and draping on top of Soonyoung’s back. The weight nearly makes his knees buckle, but Wonwoo slides his arms around his waist to hold him up.

Wonwoo is already so worked up, he starts up a brutal pace almost immediately, grinding against Soonyoung as he pistons his hips. His breath comes out rough and ragged, panting out in little gasps against the heated skin of Soonyoung’s neck. A deep moan rips out of Wonwoo’s lips as Soonyoung begins to rhythmically flex his thighs.

“G-God, _Soonyoung_ , fuck,” Wonwoo moans, sounding wrecked. Soonyoung can feel the press of his lips trailing against his neck and down the slope of his shoulders. “Fuck, _ah, ah_ , you feel so g-good.” 

“Wonwoo, please,” Soonyoung gasps out. He squeezes his legs shut even tighter, whining when Wonwoo starts moaning his name, sweet and perfect, like he can’t stop, like the only syllables he knows are _Soonyoung_. He braces himself up on one elbow, his other hand reaching blindly underneath him to clasp around Wonwoo’s grip on his waist.

Even lost in pleasure, Wonwoo automatically twists his wrist to interlock their fingers together, holding tight onto Soonyoung’s hand. His breath exhales hot against Soonyoung’s skin, lips pressing against his shoulder once again, but this time it trails up until he’s nudging softly at Soonyoung’s cheek. He doesn’t think, automatically turns his head towards Wonwoo, and then his lips are captured in a deep kiss. A small whimper escapes—they almost never kiss, another unspoken rule, now broken—but he can hardly think past the haze of lust and heady pleasure.

Wonwoo pulls away to moan, this time louder and broken, on an outward thrust. He thrusts hard, jolting Soonyoung’s smaller body upwards, his pace growing frantic until Soonyoung is practically bouncing on the bed. He’s held only in place by Wonwoo, who tightens his grip around him again as Soonyoung takes the brunt of his thrusts, cock sliding slick between his soft thighs.

His pulse spikes, his hips twitching with every hard push. Soonyoung’s head falls back down, his mouth falling open in a gasp as his cock valiantly twitches, trying to get hard again. The view of Wonwoo’s hand around his waist, the way their fingers are still interlocked like they can’t bear to let each other go, and the view of Wonwoo’s glistening wet cock thrusting between his thighs is overwhelming. The sound of Wonwoo’s moans, the familiar smell of his musky scent, it’s nearly blinding in how much Soonyoung _loves_ it, how much he _yearns_ for him. 

“Fuck, Soonyo– _oh_ ,” Wonwoo gasps. “Soonyoung, go– gonna come.” His hips begin to stutter, moving on their own as the rhythm of his thrusts break down. He chants Soonyoung’s name like a mantra. “ _Oh_ , f-fuck, Soonyoung, I lo– _ah_ –” His lips chase after Soonyoung’s once more, the final words swallowed up by a kiss. With a cry, Wonwoo comes hard, painting Soonyoung’s thighs with hot cum.  


* * *

  
In the end, Soonyoung doesn’t get his chance to talk things out with Wonwoo. 

Once Monday swings around, he receives a text message from his sister asking if she would be able to stay with him for the week. Soonyoung visits his family pretty often since Namyangju isn’t far, but it has been awhile since he’s been able to see his older sister. He offers her his bed while he sleeps out on the couch—though he tries to cajole Jihoon into letting him share his mattress once—while she prepares for her job interview at the end of the week.

He’s close to his sister and it’s always nice to hang out with her, just like they did when they were kids. Soonyoung takes her to all his favourite restaurants. Jihoon joins them on some days when he can bear to part from his room, and Chan tags along on some work nights too. She’s always had a soft spot for the younger man, even when they all went to high school together. 

A part of him wonders whether he should ask Wonwoo to join them, but _meeting the family_ feels like a bit _too_ much even for Soonyoung while they’re in this weird limbo state. Instead, they make weekend plans to hang out. That’s when he’ll confront Wonwoo, he decides with some trepidation. The flutter of butterflies in his stomach threatens to engulf him each time he thinks about it. No more putting it off. 

But as the days tick down to Thursday, the day his sister is set to return home, the prospect of spending time again with Wonwoo over the weekend results in a surge of excitement and anticipation that’s nearly embarrassing. Soonyoung tries to tamp it down. He’s in his late-twenties, it feels a little ridiculous to look forward to seeing someone he already sees everyday at work. 

Of course, nothing is ever made easy for Soonyoung because the day after his sister leaves for home with a pep in her step after a successful job interview, Soonyoung wakes up feeling awful. 

He doesn’t notice at first, the way it creeps up on him slowly. The noise of his alarm—of Taemin’s crooning voice—feels harsher than normal that Friday morning, and the throbbing in his head is unusual. Soonyoung’s been doing his job long enough that the 3 o’clock alarm hardly fazes him most days, but every limb of his body feels weighed down and sore. 

Soonyoung hopes it’s just because he had gone to bed a little later than normal, staying up to text Wonwoo after dropping his sister off at the KTX station. 

( _‘thoughts?’_ Wonwoo had texted him last night, the singular word followed by a link that Soonyoung guilelessly clicked without further thought. 

He nearly drops his phone when it opens up to a hefty-looking vibrating dildo with twelve speed settings and a bluetooth-enabled remote control. Soonyoung stifles a yelp and is glad that it’s late enough that he’s the only one left in the living room. 

Soonyoung is even more glad that he’s alone when Wonwoo proceeds to tell him how exactly he’d make best use of the bluetooth remote and high speed settings. He’s never been more grateful of the proximity of the washroom to the couch, and the haste in which he could kick his pants off and reach for the lotion with one hand still holding the phone.)

God, Soonyoung hopes it wasn’t the late-night sexting. It had certainly felt worth it to stay up late in the moment.

But by late morning, Soonyoung’s shoulders begin to droop and the throbbing in his temples worsens. The pounding rhythm is distracting over the sound of Seokmin and Seungkwan’s voices. He tries not to let it show, especially not on camera, but by the time they can take a break, Soonyoung has to rest his head in his hands.

Seokmin slings an arm around Soonyoung’s shoulders once the cameras are off. “You okay?” he asks, his voice soft with concern.

“Just a bit of a headache,” Soonyoung says. He rubs at his temples. “Hopefully it’ll go away before the day ends.” 

Seokmin’s expression morphs into one of sympathy. “Oh no, I hope you feel better. Do you want to take something for it?” He glances around the studio, nodding in the direction of where Seungkwan is chatting with the teleprompter operator. “He basically carries a whole pharmacy in his bag, I’m sure he has Ibuprofen or something.” 

He shakes his head, huffing out a laugh. Soonyoung immediately regrets it when a wave of dizziness passes through him. “It’s fine,” he says anyway, mustering up a smile. “I’m sure it’ll pass. Thanks though, Seokminnie.” 

Soon enough, they’re called to return back to their positions. Behind his camera, he can see Wonwoo eye him with concern. He had been busy during their break and hadn’t been in the studio, so Soonyoung must really look terrible if Wonwoo can tell immediately. 

Unfortunately, the headache worsens. Soonyoung pushes through it, but by the end of the day, his brain feels scrambled and his thoughts muggy and slow. He slumps against the lobby wall as he waits for Wonwoo, his head too heavy to keep propped up. 

He must doze off standing up because he startles awake to a cool, dry hand resting over his forehead. Prying his eyelids open, Soonyoung blinks sluggishly when he sees Wonwoo staring at him with a frown on his face. 

“Alright?” Wonwoo withdraws his hand, peering at Soonyoung like he’s the vintage vase in his apartment gifted by Wonwoo’s aunt; fragile and easy to break. And a little ugly and eroded from wear, which is a state that Soonyoung thinks he’s definitely embodying right now. 

“Just a little off,” Soonyoung mumbles. With one hand braced against the wall, he pushes himself so that he’s standing upright. “Might be getting sick, dunno. Not sure if I should come over in that case.” He swallows down the disappointment that comes from his words. He’s been looking forward to spending the weekend with Wonwoo, with finally clarifying the air between them. But he doesn’t want Wonwoo to worry about him, and it’s even worse if he’s a burden. “Don’t wanna get you sick, Wonwoo-ya.” 

Wonwoo is silent for a moment, then, “Come on, Soonyoung. I’m calling us a taxi.” He wraps a hand around Soonyoung and with a gentleness that does terrible things to his heart, he’s tugged out the door.  


* * *

  
As soon as they arrive at Wonwoo’s apartment, he’s shepherded to his bedroom and put to bed. When Wonwoo’s busy tampering around in the kitchen, Lady jumps up with a jingle of her bell. She headbutts his face a few times before she retreats to Wonwoo’s pillow, kneading aggressively until she’s satisfied and neatly folds herself down. 

“You are perfect,” Soonyoung mumbles at her. She yawns in response, her tiny little fangs on display. His head is screaming in protest now, a faint burning sensation irritating his eyes. He blinks, curling up on his side. Frustratingly, he misses Wonwoo’s touch more than ever. 

Wonwoo had said he was going to make Soonyoung some tea. He tries to stay awake, strangely embarrassed by himself and his sorry state. His Friday was supposed to be spent with some wild mindblowing _and_ backbreaking sex with Wonwoo, followed by a serious conversation about their potential relationship—not this. Hard as he tries to fight it, his eyes fall shut, unable to resist the pull of sleep.

He drifts back to consciousness some time later to someone tucking the blankets closer around his fatigued body. His skull throbs in tandem with the pulse of his heartbeat. Soonyoung shifts restlessly as he tries to fight off the fuzziness in his mind.

A clink of porcelain settles on Wonwoo’s bedside table, and then he feels a weight settling on his side of the bed. “You stole my spot,” he hears Wonwoo say. He must be talking to the cat, and Soonyoung would giggle if he didn’t feel so out of it. The warmth emanating from Wonwoo’s body is soothing though, and with a small whine, he curls up towards the source of warmth. There’s a soft sigh and a quiet laugh, and then a sympathetic hand lands on his forehead, checking his temperature. 

Soonyoung wants to open his eyes and look at Wonwoo. He wonders what expression is on his face. But when Soonyoung tries to pry his eyelids back open, or to mumble an apology, his body doesn’t cooperate. Another wave of nausea rolls through him. 

He feels the weight on the bed shift again. This time, Wonwoo’s thigh grazes the side of his face. He must be sitting against the headboard. Without thinking about it, Soonyoung rubs his face into Wonwoo’s leg in a silent plea for comfort, whining pathetically when it only worsens his headache. 

Wonwoo makes a sympathetic noise as his hand smooths Soonyoung’s hair back. He strokes his hair until Soonyoung gets comfortable again, nestling closer into Wonwoo’s side with a small noise of content. Soonyoung has always been a tactile person, and the gentle, repetitive motion of his hand is soothing. It lulls him back into a doze. 

Right before Soonyoung succumbs to slumber once more, he swears he feels the warm press of lips against his heated forehead. He falls asleep, cozy and warm. 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but when Soonyoung wakes up again, the pounding in his head has mostly subsided. He feels like garbage, but at least his brain doesn’t feel like it’s been grinded through the garburator anymore. 

The room is swathed in the soft glow of moonlight through Wonwoo’s window. The lights are off. Soonyoung squints into the darkness, propping himself up on his elbow as he tries to gather his bearings. 

Wonwoo’s back on his side of the bed, seemingly fast asleep. He must have won his fight over the right to his pillow because Lady is half propped on top of his head, his nose twitching in irritation each time her tail flickers against his face. Soonyoung bites down on a smile, his heart melting in his chest.

His deep breathing fills the otherwise quiet room, his chest rising and falling with each breath. A pang of affection slams into Soonyoung with so much power that his own breath nearly flees him. Wonwoo’s glasses are still on, skewed awkwardly on his face. He must have fallen asleep trying to care for Soonyoung. 

Soonyoung sits up, reaching over to gently pry the glasses off his face and sets it down on the bedside table. There’s a mug sitting close to the edge, and when Soonyoung takes a closer look, his senses are assaulted by the sharp aroma of ginger. Wonwoo must have prepared it for him. 

It’s gone cold now, Soonyoung realizes, guilt settling in his stomach. He picks it up carefully and swings his legs to the side of the bed. Quietly so as not to disturb Wonwoo from his sleep, Soonyoung pads out of the room and into the kitchen to reheat the tea, swaddled in one of Wonwoo’s sweaters. It’s a little oversized on him, but it’s warm and it smells like Wonwoo. 

He pauses when he notices a bowl resting on top of the dining table. It’s covered with saran wrap, and as he walks closer, he can see a post-it note stuck right on top as well. Soonyoung pulls the note off the saran wrap to read, his heart fluttering when he sees that his name is written in Wonwoo’s distinct writing.

 _‘For Soonyoung,’_ it says. He peels the saran wrap off the bowl, smiling to himself when he realizes that Wonwoo cooked for him. Soonyoung briefly hides his face behind his hand, covering up his goofy grin despite being alone in the kitchen. It’s chicken congee, perhaps a little overcooked, but it smells delicious to Soonyoung nonetheless. 

His stomach rumbles as if on cue. He peers out the window to check the skies, just out of habit, noting absently that it’s a clear night with no chance of rain. A quick glance at the microwave shows that it’s just past seven in the evening; Soonyoung had slept longer than he expected. He warms the mug of tea up before plopping down in a chair in front of the kitchen table. 

A jingle of bells echo behind him, followed by the tiny pitter-patter of feet. Soonyoung scoops Lady right into his lap, kissing her nose before setting her back down. “Your dad’s not so bad, is he?” he asks softly, petting her between her ears. She meows in response as if agreeing with him. 

Soonyoung feels a bit better after he eats, some of the lingering ickiness receding as he fills his empty stomach. A warmth that’s not just from drinking hot tea fills him with a happiness that makes his stomach flutter. Although he wishes he could have had a conversation with Wonwoo about _them_ , as he had planned, the fact that he’s taking care of Soonyoung like this—it leaves him feeling pampered, shy and pleased.

He takes his time washing the dishes and cleaning up the remaining pots and kitchenware that Wonwoo had dumped into the sink. Soonyoung shakes his head fondly when he sees the rice still stuck to the bottom of the pot. He must have joined Soonyoung in the room as soon as he had finished cooking. 

As soon as Soonyoung turns to return back to the room, lured by the prospect of cuddling with Wonwoo for the rest of the evening, the cat meows at him. Lady brushes up against his legs, twining her tail around his calf, before leading him straight to her food bowl. She sits back on her hind legs, meowing loudly at Soonyoung.

He laughs at the expectant look on her face. “You poor thing,” he coos, grabbing her favourite can of wet food from Wonwoo’s coat closet in the hallway. “You must have been hungry, you poor little thing.” 

If Wonwoo fell asleep before he fed her dinner, he probably didn’t have time to clean her litter box either. Heaving himself up with a grunt, Soonyoung pads into the washroom. He winces when he catches sight of himself in the mirror. His hair is a tousled mess, his eyes rimmed red and skin slightly sallow. He looks awful. 

God, how _mortifying_. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that Soonyoung couldn’t have that conversation with him after all. There’s no way Wonwoo would agree to be his boyfriend while he’s looking like _this_.

A glance at the litter box proves his theory right, though. Rolling up his sleeves, Soonyoung squats down to scoop the clumped up litter into the poopy bags kept underneath the sink. He sings softly under his breath, a song that Seokmin had been humming earlier when they had been in the makeup chair. 

“Soonyoung?”

The voice startles Soonyoung, causing him to turn. He blinks, and his hand freezes mid-air. It’s Wonwoo, rubbing blearily at his eyes while squinting at Soonyoung from the doorway of the washroom. He must’ve left his glasses in the bedroom. His hair, surprisingly, is still styled from that morning despite napping in bed, although he looks dazed like he’s just pulled himself out of sleep. Soonyoung’s heart squeezes at the sight of how adorable Wonwoo looks. 

“Hey.” Soonyoung beams up at Wonwoo, shifting his weight to look at him better. “Thanks for the congee. It was delicious.” Wonwoo seems frozen in place though, his eyes strangely focused on Soonyoung’s hands. He glances down, laughing a little abashedly when he realizes he’s still holding a scoop full of cat poop. He drops it back down into the bin. “Sorry, I thought I might as well clean her litter box.” Soonyoung smiles self-consciously and tilts his head. “I hope that’s okay? I fed her dinner too, so don’t believe her if she whines for more.”

His smile falters when Wonwoo continues to stare at Soonyoung for a long moment. Slowly, he climbs to his feet with one hand still clutching onto the bag of cat litter. He shoots Wonwoo a puzzled look. “Wonwoo?” 

“You’re scooping Lady’s litter?” Wonwoo says. His words coming out strangled and abrupt, like the syllables are escaping from this mouth without permission. 

With some hesitation, Soonyoung nods. Maybe he’s done something wrong. His chest tightens. Soonyoung has never had a cat before, maybe there’s a special process to scooping poop that he wasn’t aware of. “Is that– is that okay? Sorry, I just thought I could help out,” he babbles, flustered, “You had a long day and you took care of me, I thought–”

“I love you,” Wonwoo blurts out abruptly. He looks at him, and Soonyoung has to reel back from the raw, gutted expression etched into the plains of Wonwoo’s face. Just as his throat closes up, a stark surprise welling in his lungs and choking his next breath, Wonwoo lets out a shuddering breath and says, “Soonyoung, I love you.” 

There’s a long silence between them as Soonyoung freezes, punctuated by the sound of Lady meowing as she butts her way past Wonwoo’s legs and through the door. She stares disdainfully at the half-cleaned litter box before sitting in front of Soonyoung, meowing plaintively. 

It’s a horrible reminder that Soonyoung is standing there, still literally holding a bag of cat poop in one hand. His hair is mussed and tangled and ugly. Dark shadows bruise the skin underneath his eyes, lips chapped from passing out as soon as he got off work. He’s seen much, _much_ better days and here Wonwoo is, a tender expression on his handsome, beautiful face, and confessing something that Soonyoung can’t fully process. His brain is stuck on how the smell of cat litter permeates his senses.

His breath returns to him in a sputtering rush. Soonyoung’s grip slackens and the bag falls to the ground. “W-What?” he stammers, eyes wide with shock.

Wonwoo looks nervous, his hands fidgeting with the too-long sleeves of his shirt. He bites his lips, wringing his hands. His gaze flickers, but when it lands on Soonyoung, his jaw sets firmly in determination. The trepidation on his face doesn’t ease, but something more certain and more resolute takes hold instead. 

The longer he looks at Wonwoo, the harder it seems for Soonyoung to remember how to breathe.

Then, Wonwoo straightens his back. “I love you,” he repeats, this time sounding more confident. “Kwon Soonyoung, I– for a long time now, I’ve been in love with you. You don’t– I know this is abrupt, I don’t want to pressure you.” Wonwoo pauses, faltering once more before he forges forward, eyes burning brightly as he locks eyes with Soonyoung. “But I just, I just needed to tell you. I _love_ you.”

He’s rambling. It’s uncharacteristic of Wonwoo, who speaks in measured words and ample actions; he’s someone who brews ginger tea because Soonyoung’s not feeling well, someone who cooks Soonyoung chicken congee when he’s unpracticed at cooking, someone who pets his hair until he falls asleep. All without saying a word. 

And he loves...Soonyoung? 

Somehow, the concept comes foreign to him. All this time, Soonyoung has indulged in half-thoughts and nervously formed fantasies of what it would mean to confess to Wonwoo. He’s imagined a dozen-and-a-half scenarios and outcomes, most of which have found its way into sappy love songs (“love-sick,” as Jihoon had referred to them) that will never leave Jihoon’s studio. 

And as much as Soonyoung knew that they had something between them—always the undefined _thing_ he thought of it as in his mind—he had also always thought it would be up to him to risk his heart on the line again. Soonyoung had half a speech planned, a fistful of mentally drafted scripts on how to approach the conversation with Wonwoo. 

He had never imagined a scenario where Wonwoo would choose to speak up _first_.

Certainly not like this. Even though Soonyoung had been working himself up to talk to Wonwoo about his feelings for weeks now, the slow grind of anxiety building up over time, his thoughts now immediately fly out the window in stunned shock. 

“I–” Soonyoung starts. The words die on his lips. “But Wonwoo, I’m...I’m holding Lady’s poop?” he responds dumbly. His brain is fuzzy and blank, stuck on Wonwoo’s words like a scratched record. 

“Exactly,” Wonwoo says, which makes even less sense to Soonyoung. “Soonyoung, you’re– you fed my cat and now you’re cleaning her litter box. You don’t have to do any of this, but you do anyway. For me. Simply because you– you, and your stupidly big heart, and beautiful smile and–” The warmth in Wonwoo’s eyes is staggering, and Soonyoung’s breath hitches, coming up short. Wonwoo continues, “And how can I look at you and not think of all the ways you already fit into my life? And all the ways I want to fit into _yours_?”

At first, Soonyoung thinks that he’s never seen Wonwoo like this before, with words falling from his lips in a babble that’s more expected from himself than from Wonwoo. But—no, he has, maybe not in words, but Soonyoung belatedly recognizes the expression on Wonwoo’s face. He knows the angle of his eyes and the warmth that lingers in his gaze, the set of his lips curving into a smile whenever they see each other. A flush dusts over the tops of Wonwoo’s cheeks, the angular lines of his face breathtakingly handsome even under the glare of the bathroom lights, even with the slight imprints of sleep visible on his face. These are all familiar to Soonyoung, and he realizes now what the fondness on Wonwoo’s face _means_. 

His bewilderment slowly thaws at the hesitant smile on Wonwoo’s face. His words catch up to him, slowly at first, like Soonyoung can only process one word at time, and then all at once, the tenderness of emotions rushing through him. A sudden warmth crashes over him like a tidal wave, his heart speeding up in his chest until it’s pounding so loud, he wonders if it’s possible for his heart to escape from his chest. Soonyoung has to pause and remember how to breathe.

His cheeks flush bright red. “Idiot,” he says, and to his horror, his eyes turn misty. He smiles, waterlogged and tentative. “You idiot. Why would you confess while I’m holding your cat’s poop?”

The corner of Wonwoo’s lips curl, hesitant and shy. “You said that already,” Wonwoo says, and then, “Can I be _your_ idiot?”

 _Stupid Jeon Wonwoo_ , Soonyoung thinks. His heart is melting. The song that Seokmin had gotten stuck in his head runs through his mind again, some silly lovesick lyrics that Soonyoung secretly loves. _You’ll always be my day one_ , it goes, and all Soonyoung can feel is the same giddy rush that all these silly love songs talk about. Even the shitty love-sick ones he made using Jihoon’s music equipment. 

“Yeah,” Soonyoung says. He takes a step forward, one step closer to Wonwoo. His heart flutters in a staccato rhythm. “Yeah, you’re my idiot.” And then he’s reaching out, his breath shuddering out of him as he laces their fingers together. He can’t tear his gaze away from Wonwoo, whose eyes are so full of warmth that Soonyoung can feel his chest caving in. 

Maybe it’s Wonwoo leaning in first, or maybe it’s Soonyoung who rises on his tiptoes first, but then their breaths mingle together, heartbeat thudding at the whisper-close proximity of Wonwoo’s lips to his. He closes his eyes, and leans–

“Wait,” Soonyoung says frantically, tearing himself away. Wonwoo jumps away, an urgent panic settling on his face at the distraught tone in Soonyoung’s voice. “Wait, wait I forgot to wash my hands! Wonwoo– stop _laughing_ , I swear to god–!”  


* * *

  
Later, after they both washed their hands _extensively_ with water and soap, and then after another long and honest conversation about their feelings, they return back to bed together, hand in hand. Lady clambers to nap on her favourite spot on top of his feet, like usual. 

He presses a kiss to Wonwoo’s shoulder. “You know I love you too, right? For a long time now,” Soonyoung whispers. 

Wonwoo sighs, the little noise causing Soonyoung’s heart to do somersaults. He pulls Soonyoung closer, his arms a warm embrace around him as he peppers affectionate little kisses all over his face. Soonyoung’s eyes flutter shut as a small giggle squeezes out of him. 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo breathes out. “Maybe we’re both idiots. If I had known you weren’t actually callously throwing my feelings back in my face, that night we first slept together again–” because that was the first thing Soonyoung brought up, how they got into a _casual_ relationship in the first place. 

Turns out, both of them had been serious from the beginning. Two idiots in love. 

“Maybe,” Soonyoung says. “But we’re here now, aren’t we?” He tangles their hands together, kissing each knuckle on the back of Wonwoo’s hand with a gentle press of his lips. 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo says again, and it’s miraculous how much warmth can be infused in a single syllable. He raises himself up on his elbows, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he traces his eyes over Soonyoung’s features. There it is again, the fondness. 

Soonyoung takes a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of Wonwoo’s shampoo and the minty fragrance of his toothpaste. And then, Wonwoo leans in, slotting his lips against his, warm and sweet and soft. The feeling of butterflies in his stomach engulfs him, shivers spiralling down his spine. His arms swing around Wonwoo’s shoulders, keeping him close as they kiss slowly, leisurely, as time seems to pass by at their discretion.

They don’t say much else, not much more than sweet sighs and quiet moans, and the most tender of _I love you_ ’s. Not with Wonwoo half-pinning Soonyoung down on the bed, not when he’s pressing kisses down the slender line of his neck, and then lower and lower still. 

They’re here now.  
  
  
  
  
_And now, for Friday’s weather forecast: the night will be fair, with a chance of love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're done!!!!! thank you so much for sticking around to read the end of this story. i hope you enjoyed it! it's not a dramatic story to tell, but hopefully it was a fun read nonetheless ♥
> 
> there were a number of tiny tidbits of this universe that aren't included in the main storyline, but exists peripherally to inform some of the worldbuilding, character building, etc. that occurred in the process of writing this fic! in case it's fun for anyone to read, here are some of them here:
> 
> \- Soonyoung has a BSc in atmospheric sciences and a certificate in meteorology. He doesn’t see himself as inherently inclined to academic studies, but he works _hard_. His grades weren’t amazing, but everyone he’s studied under could see his passion. He was a generally well-liked student for that purpose.
> 
> \- It’s briefly mentioned in the fic itself, but he actually worked initially in agrometeorology and it specifically focused on the study of weather and climate, and its impact on farming (amidst a broader scope). He grew up helping his dad and the village chief on the farms, and feels a very personal connection to the study of agriculture! 
> 
> \- Minghao and Soonyoung were roommates at the time when Soonyoung was fooling around with Dongho. Soonyoung was half in love with him and knew that Dongho didn’t reciprocate, while Dongho didn’t care enough to consider Soonyoung’s wellbeing in favour of getting consistent sex. Out of all their friends, Minghao had seen firsthand how brokenhearted it left Soonyoung by the end of it. 
> 
> \- No matter what time it is, Mingyu always shows up to work looking impeccable. Seungkwan feels some low grade (non-serious) resentment towards him for this. Soonyoung, on the other hand, appreciates the eye-candy and doesn’t hide it. Wonwoo does not care thank you very much, he shows up with styled hair despite waking up early in the morning just because, okay, it has nothing to do with a one-sided competition with Kim Mingyu.
> 
> \- Jihoon unfortunately received less screen time than was desired, but he’s also one of Soonyoung’s best friends! They’ve been roommates ever since Soonyoung’s last year of undergrad. When Soonyoung eventually moves out to live with Wonwoo instead, they both cry a little because they will miss each other. It’s a secret Soonyoung will take to his grave—Jihoon has a face to save after all. 
> 
> \- Wonwoo can get a little too into gaming. Usually Soonyoung just tunes him out and focuses on whatever YouTube videos he’s watching on his phone, mostly because he doesn’t really understand half the things that Wonwoo says in those moments. Like when he said “gg ez” in the fic (which basically means ‘good game easy win’ and is a pretty annoying thing to say). Soonyoung’s the type to find passion hot though so he gets kinda stirred up when he sees Wonwoo like this. Also because I just think it’s funny that Soonyoung would get turned on after Wonwoo says ‘gg ez’. It’s a pretty unsexy phrase, but _[Mingyu voice]_ of course why not? 
> 
> apologies to everyone who just had to scroll past a tediously long end note!!!! i am definitely more verbose than i probably should be hahaha ;; but thank you again everyone for reading! ♥
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/igbtksoo)


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